An Ironic Twist of Fate
by WaitingforAda
Summary: He spoke to her and his voice almost seemed to shake, “You are going to die, Granger." A mysterious plague has settled over Great Britain and is killing wizards and muggles alike. Hermione is determined to find a cure and Draco could hold the answer. D/Hr
1. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. I apply this to all other chapters in advance.

**Author's Note: **Here's my newest idea for a fanfiction. It's a bit more epic than anything i've written in the past. meaning, it actually has a plot. Btw. This is written as if the last two books never happened! Enjoy...

**An Ironic Twist of Fate**

By WaitingforAda

**Chapter One:** **Something Wicked This Way Comes**

Harry Potter and his friends were well into their seventh year at Hogwarts when the first person fell ill. He was a second year Ravenclaw, a short little blond boy with a sweet face. He was found early in the morning by his dorm mates, shaking and in a cold sweat. They all recognized the symptoms, they had read about them in the Daily Prophet since the beginning of September.

It had started quietly enough in the suburbs of London with maybe two or three people falling ill in a week. But soon the disease began to spread throughout the rest of England, affecting wizards and muggles alike. Saint Mungo's was soon overrun. It was a sickness even the greatest healers could not find a cure for. The muggles had it even worse, they couldn't combat this sort of disease. Their doctors could keep patients alive for only a week at best. It was a slow and painful death. They were scared. They called it a plague.

Dumbledore had quarantined the school. No one could leave or enter for fear of introducing the disease to the students. Hogwarts soon became one of the only places in Great Britain untouched by the disease and the sickness seemed a distant issue to the students. Life went on as it always had in the castle but then parents and relatives began dieing. Hogwarts had transformed from a haven to a cage. Students, whose families had fallen ill wanted to leave to be with their loved ones but Dumbledore would let no one go. It was safe at Hogwarts, or so he thought.

And then somehow the sickness found its way into the school itself. Jeffery Wellington, the second year Ravenclaw, was raced up to the infirmary and its doors were locked to all students. It was kept quiet at first, to avoid the panic that would ensue, but the truth could not be suppressed. Within a week another student fell ill, this time a fifth year Gryffindor. The sickness was no longer a distant threat, it had found its way into Hogwarts and was living among them all.

SSS

Ron and Harry were standing outside looking at the new fallen snow. The first snowfall of the season had lifted some of the tension of the past few weeks. There were groups of first and second years scattered about the grounds starting snowball fights and building snow forts. Harry smiled at their games. He felt so old and worn. Memories of his last snowball fight were so distant and fuzzy he had trouble recalling them at all.

"What do you think will happen?" Ron suddenly asked, pulling Harry out of his recollections.

He let out a sigh, watching his breath come out in a hot cloud before his face.

"I don't know." And he didn't. _If this plague continues and they can't find a cure we may all die_, he thought to himself. But he didn't want to say this to Ron, he didn't want to frighten him, time would do that.

They stood in silence for a moment and watched the students play. Harry looked over at his friend and gave him a smile. He wondered if they would survive this new challenge.

Ron gave out a little laugh and Harry turned to see a first year who had become surrounded by six snowball carrying enemies. He held up his hands in the sign of surrender but his enemies would have none of it. He was pelted from all sides and the children collapsed in laughter.

"Harry! Ron!" They heard from behind them. They turned to see Hermione racing towards them in the snow. She was not dressed for the cold wearing only a sweater and a pair of jeans which had become soaked through to her knees.

She reached them, out of breath and shivering. "Hermione! Why didn't you grab a cloak?" Ron reprimanded, pulling off his own and throwing it around her shoulders.

"I'm fine really," she said but pulled the cloak tighter around her.

"Another student has fallen ill!" she continued. "Molly Radford, she's a Gryffindor you know!"

Ron started, "Yea, I think she's one of Ginny's friends!"

"And that's not all!" Hermione went on, "a professor's sick too… Trelawney." Hermione's expression was troubled and she seemed strangely guilty, as if she suddenly regretted walking out of Trelawney's class in third year. She regained some of her composure and said, "Dumbledore's bringing in a healer from Saint Mungo's to help out Madame Pomfrey." She hesitated here, "And I've volunteered to be her assistant."

She braced herself for her overprotective friends comments. Ron was first, "No. No, absolutely not."

Harry followed this up with, "Hermione you can't throw yourself in the middle of this. It's too dangerous!" He took her hands, "I know you want to do good and be useful, we all do! But there are other ways!"

She shook her head. "You don't have to worry, Dumbledore wont allow me to be near any of the patients. I'll just be doing small tasks to make things easier for the healers, bringing them things, food, fresh linens, relaying messages and mostly finding ingredients for the potions Snape'll be brewing." She gave them an encouraging smile, "really there's nothing to worry about."

She saw Harry's shoulders relax a bit but Ron still seemed worried. "I still don't like the idea." He said stubbornly.

Then Harry said, "Just be careful alright, we couldn't bear to lose you."

She smiled at her two best friends, "Don't worry, you won't." And then pulling Ron's cloak off she said, "Anyways I just thought you'd want to hear the news. I ought to be getting back to the library, I have a lot of work to do!"

"Don't you always," Ron chuckled, taking his cloak back.

She smiled and waved as she hurried back up to the Castle, "see you at dinner!"

SSS

Hermione raced up the front steps of the Castle and kicked the snow off her shoes. She hurried in through the front doors and enjoyed the sudden warmth the Castle provided. The squeak of her shoes echoed off the tile as she made her way up to the library and she realized how silent it was. She must be the only one inside today instead of out enjoying the first snow. She wouldn't have minded spending her day in such an idle manner but she had research to do. This sickness that had settled among them, it was mysterious, a puzzle that Hermione wanted to solve. She had been taking basic healer training classes since sixth year and had applied to be an intern at Saint Mungo's next fall. She didn't know much about curing diseases but if there's one thing Hermione Granger's good at it's research and she was determined to find some sort of way to help out.

Hermione had almost reached the Library doors when she heard voices down the hall. It was Malfoy and his cronies. He was the last person she wanted to see just then so she hurried around the corner to avoid them.

"I hear crack pot Trelawney got herself sick. Checked into the infirmary this morning. Guess she didn't see that in her bloody crystal ball," said the sickeningly smug voice of Draco Malfoy. Crab and Goyle laughed stupidly in return but offered nothing more. Hermione could feel that her hands had balled into fists as she heard him talk. She hated that he was saying this, not only because it was an awful thing to say but also because she, horribly enough, had been thinking something of the same thing in the back of her mind.

Malfoy continued, "I say it serves her right for being nothing but a great waste of space. I mean if there's any proof that she's great phony its this. She sees Harry Potter's death in her teacup every other month but she couldn't see her own to save her life." At this he laughed to himself, "quite literally to save her life."

At that Hermione flew out from behind the corner right as they were walking by her. "That's enough, Malfoy!"

Malfoy and his goons faced her in surprise and Malfoy gave her a smirk. "Granger-"

"Professor Trelawney is a faculty member here at Hogwarts," she said, cutting him off, "therefore she is your superior and should be given your respect."

He walked towards her until he loomed over her small frame and she was forced to bend her neck backwards to meet his eyes. When had he gotten so tall? "That's strange," he said thoughtfully, "As I remember it, Granger, you were never a fan of hers either."

Hermione felt her cheeks catch fire and she looked away in shame. "That was a long time ago," She said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady. "I don't believe in her area of teaching, this is true, but I was wrong to disrespect her like I did."

Malfoy put that stupid smirk on his face again, "It's funny, how people like you only regret there actions once someone is dieing." He smirked, "Lets see what was that she said to you," he paused to think a moment, "something about your soul being as dry as the pages of your books," he laughed, "Ha! And then you knocked over a crystal ball and you stormed out of the classroom!" He exclaimed. And then he lowered his voice, "A little overdramatic for my taste but a turn-on none the less." He had become uncomfortably close.

"In case you've forgotten, Malfoy, I still have the power to take points away from Slytherin," She threatened.

He turned to laugh at his cronies. "Ha! The little mudblood Head Girl is on a power trip!"

She narrowed her eyes, "Five points from Slytherin," she said authoritatively, "don't give me a reason to take away more."

He chuckled again, "Alright Granger, settle down. We were just on our way outside to enjoy a fine winter's day when _you_ stopped _us_." He stepped away from her and she began to walk away. "Be careful though, mudblood, or you might be the next one they take to Madame Pomfrey." He and his goons began to chuckle.

She spun around, "Just so you know, diseases can't tell pureblood from muggleborn. You have just as good a chance of dieing as the rest of us."

He suddenly looked smugger than ever, "I'm not worried." And then he and his entourage turned away from her and made there way down the hall.

Hermione stomped away in frustration. He drove her absolutely mad! To think someone could have the audacity to think themselves above disease! She had never known someone so arrogant, so egotistical, so completely impossible! She threw open the door to the library and it hit the wall with a bang. Madame Pince looked up disapprovingly. Hermione gave her apologies and then moved briskly to the back of the library to take up her usual spot.

She threw her heavy book bag down on the table and rummaged through it. After some search she pulled out an old leather portfolio. Inside was every newspaper clipping relating to the plague since September. She picked up the first one dated September 16th:

_Last night Ulysses Smeaton was rushed from his home in Kingston to the Emergency ward of St. Mungo's. He was found and transported to the hospital by his house elf who found him violently retching in bed, shaking and covered in a cold sweat. Mr. Smeaton is the fifth patient this week to come through the doors of Saint Mungo's with such alarming symptoms. Even more alarming is that healers of Saint Mungo's are still unable to find a treatment for whatever is affecting their patients and there has been no signs of recovery or improvement by any of them. Lucredia Yeltman was the second person to contract the mysterious illness. She has been under careful watch for two weeks and her condition is only getting worse. She is in constant, unbearable pain that potions have been able to lessen but not to relieve. She and the other survivors grow weaker everyday and unless a cure is found soon they shall surely die_.

Hermione tossed the article aside and took out a piece of parchment and a quill. With a quick flourish she jotted down a list of symptoms she could get out of the article.

_Sweating_

_Shaking_

_Regurgitation_

_Extreme pain_

…

_No cure_

She then took to the library shelves and rooted out a pile of medical books. Setting them down on the table with a loud 'thunk', she hurridly flipped to the index of _Handbook for the Healer_. She found sweating as a symptom to more than 500 illnesses. This was going to take some time. Shaking was related to 349 diseases, regurgitation: 268 and Extreme pain: 720.

After five hours and a thermos of coffee, Hermione had cross referenced and narrowed it down to 169 possible illnesses, only 72 of which were contagious and none of them particularly deadly. With a disappointed sigh she closed the heavy book and decided she had done enough that day. She looked out the window. It had grown dark, she had most likely missed dinner. Tomorrow she would research the 72 diseases she had written down in her little notebook. She figured the plague might be a mutation of one of these known diseases.

She shelved her books and made her way to the kitchens, her stomach growling at her rudely. She wondered what she would do if the plague could not be related to any known illness. What then? Where would she look next. There wasn't really any way she could test out different theories. What she needed was a patient to observe. She needed to get closer. She wouldn't get very far relying solely on articles and second hand accounts. And then, against her stomach's will, Hermione decided to make a quick detour to the hospital wing. She knew she wasn't supposed to be there but she just had to have a look. She crept up to the door and looked both ways to see if anyone was coming. Nope, all clear. Holding a corner of her cloak up against her nose and mouth, she opened the door a fraction of an inch and put her eye to the crack. The air from inside stuck to her face, hot and wet.

She could see Madame Pomfrey's backside. She was leaning over one of the patients. Something seemed to be going wrong. She was whispering something to the patient that Hermione couldn't quiet hear. Then she heard gurgled cry come from the bed. She peered closer, desiring Madame Pomfrey's rump to move aside so she could see what was going on.

Finally the exhausted healer stood up straight and put a shaking hand to her forehead. She looked extremely frightened. She then moved quickly to her potions cupboard and Hermione was afforded a look at the invalid.

The first thing she noticed was the blood and she gave a startled gasp. It was little Jeremy. His sheets were soaked with blood, so much blood. He was on his side, blood running freely from him nose. Eyes, tightly shut, pale, shaking. A picture by his bed: two happy parents and a young blond baby boy. He coughed and more blood fell onto the crisp white sheets.

Madame Pomfrey was back with a small purple vial. She readjusted the cloth wrapped about her face. Hermione recognized it, a potion to increase the body's ability to make new blood. But what was this new symptom? She had not read about it in any of her articles. What else was not being reported? Madame Pomfrey filled a syringe with the potion and pushed it deep into Jeremy's veins. He shuddered. Then his body seemed to calm and his breathing slowed.

Madame Pomfrey's head suddenly snapped to the door. Had Hermione made a noise? She didn't think she had even breathed since she'd been there. None the less, Madame Pomfrey had seen her. She quickly let go of the door, straightened up, and backed away. Madame Pomfrey was before her in seconds, looking livid. "Miss Granger! What do you think you're doing here?" she asked disapprovingly.

Hermione shuffled her feet and stumbled over her reply, "I. uh. I just wanted to see if you needed anything. If you needed any help." She gave the healer a guilty smile.

Madame Pomfrey shook her head, "No, I'm fine. You're not supposed to be here, Miss Granger. If the Headmaster found out you'd been here!"

"I'm sorry, Madame Pomfrey, I just…wanted to see them. See how they were doing. Are they getting any better?"

Her expression became somber. "No. They are not." She looked close to tears. "They are weaker every hour. This illness is like nothing I've seen before. Nothing seems to help. There is naught but constant pain and suffering and soon enough their bodies will grow too weak to fight it." Her face quickly grew hard again, "And that is why you must leave immediately! It is far too dangerous here!"

Hermione nodded and began to walk away. The sound of Madame Pomfrey's voice called her back. "Miss Granger! Give me you cloak. It will have to be burned." Hermione eyes widened but she did as she was told and handed over her cloak. "I'll disinfect you now, but I suggest you wash everything as soon as you get back to your dorm, just in case." Then raising her wand she whispered, "_Alio Sanitas_".

Then with a timid goodbye Hermione walked in a daze back to her dormitory, completely forgetting about the dinner she never had.

SSS

The next morning the Great Hall was buzzing with news of the new patients in the hospital wing and it certainly did not get past the notice of the students that there was an addition to the staff table. The morning post had just flown in and Hermione was quickly scanning the front page of the Daily Prophet for any articles about the disease. She was surprised to see that Hogwarts was still under the reporters radar and an article had not yet been posted about the recent contamination on campus. She was in the middle of reading a statement by a ministry official in the Health Department responding to complaints about the lack of medical funding hospital's were getting during the crisis when Dumbledore stood to make an announcement.

"Good morning, all," his voice was uncharacteristically grave, "I am sure by now you have all heard of Molly Radford and Professor Trelawney's misfortune… And I am sure you all have realized that this mysterious sickness, that has plagued England for months, has finally reached Hogwarts."

At this there was a dull murmur among the students. Dumbledore held up his hand and waited for silence. "Now then, I know you are all scared and worried about your families and I know many of you have relatives who have fallen ill that you wish to be with. But I must implore you all to stay here in school, for in these troubled times it is one of the safest places you can be. I can not legally hold you here however, so with the consent of a parent or guardian I will have to let any student who wishes to go, go home."

There was a rustle of faint whispers around the room and Dumbledore raised his voice. "I must stress, however, that once a student leaves he or she may not under any circumstances return to the school, for risk of further contamination." A hush settled among the students.

Hermione stole a glance at Parvati Patil who, she knew, had recently found out that her mother had fallen ill. She looked close to tears and Lavender Brown was whispering something in her ear. What an awful decision to have to make!

"Furthermore.. The hospital wing is strictly off limits to healthy students. I know some of you want to visit those who are ill but this will not be permitted at any time. As for those students who need minor medical attention: bumps, bruises, cuts and the like, they will be directed to classroom 236," Neville Longbottom hastily scrawled the number down on the back of his hand, "where a basic health center will be set up and run by students in our 7th year healer classes."

Dumbledore offered a small smile before continuing, "And now, I am sure you have all noticed the addition to our staff. Please help me to welcome Mr. Bruce Frawley, a healer from Saint Mungos, who will be helping Madame Pomfrey attend to the sick students." Polite applause erupted from the student body and Mr. Frawley, a tall, lanky stretch of man in his mid forties, stood up and made a rough bow. He looked very anxious to be out of the spot light and quickly took his seat and resettled his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

When the applause died down Dumbledore continued. "Thank you all for your attention and I hope a little joy may be found in these troubled times," Hermione swore Dumbledore was looking directly at her, "for it is through love that we will find the cure." With that Dumbledore sat down and the Hall burst into its normal dull roar.

"So you'll be working in the health center then, Hermione?" Ron asked, stuffing a sausage link in his mouth.

"Yes," she replied, absently pushing around the food on her plate with her fork. "I suppose its a good opportunity to get some hands on training. Although to be honest, between this, my Head girl duties and helping out the healers I'm afraid you two won't be seeing me around all that much."

"I'll be surprised if you find time even to sleep!" Harry put in, "Hermione, you really shouldn't be taking on so much… especially now when you need to be watching your health."

"Really Harry its no big deal," she said defiantly, "and as for sleep, if worse comes to worse I could always ask McGonagall for that time turner again." She let out a little laugh to let them know she was joking but there didn't seem to be any amusement in the eyes starring back at her.

"Just promise us you'll be careful Hermione," Harry sighed, realizing he wasn't going to be able to talk her out of her decisions.

"Yea," Ron added, "And no going in that Hospital wing, alright." She nodded behind a sip of pumpkin juice. Unbeknownst to them, she had already broken that promise.

"Hermione…" Harry said, becoming very serious, "Promise us," he reached out across the table and grabbed her hand.

She put down her glass and met his eyes. There was deep worry in those emerald orbs. Perhaps she did have to be more careful. After all, she wouldn't be any help to anyone if she was incapacitated in the hospital wing. "Alright…I promise." She could feel Ron relax beside her and Harry's mouth settled in a small smile, Hermione Granger did not make promises lightly so they were right to be relieved. And she did have every intention of keeping that promise. Truly, she did.

SSS

**Author's Note**: Now then, i must implore anyone reading this to LEAVE ME A COMMENT. The speed of my writing is greatly dependant on the amount of feedback i get. Also... it just makes me feel good!

Let me know how you liked it, what you think will happen, any questions you have, any concerns, constructive criticism, what you ate for lunch, anything. )

Thanks


	2. A Late Night Encounter

**Authors Note: **and here it is the controversial second chapter that turns this into a rated M fic...

**An Ironic Twist of Fate**

By WaitingforAda

**Chapter 2: Late Night Encounter**

That night Hermione was on patrol, alone again. Her normal partner on Thursday nights, Justin Humphrey, a sixth year Ravenclaw hadn't been showing up lately (presumably to spend the extra time with his newest girlfriend in the prefect's bathroom). She would have to send him another angry letter in the morning.

She rubbed the tiredness out of her eyes with the back of her hand and let out an exhausted sigh before taking the stairs to the second floor. She had been working in the library again up until an hour ago and the endless reading was beginning to wear on her. She still hadn't gotten any closer to figuring out what the disease might be or how one might cure it. None of the diseases she read about seemed to match.

And then tomorrow she would start working in the health center. Walking through the dark halls she absently went through a list of all the healing spells she had learned, how to heal broken bones, how to close wounds, how to grow back skin, how to heal warts, how to hide a bruise-

A sound brought her out of her revere. She heard a voice, coming from the first floor and a "Shhh" in response. They were heading for the doors. Someone was definitely trying to sneak out of the castle. Hermione gave another tired sigh and considered ignoring the commotion downstairs. But as she tried to walk away she knew she couldn't. These students were breaking a Hogwarts school rule and as Head Girl she had made a promise to uphold the rules. The nagging feeling just wouldn't go away and she reluctantly turned around and hurried down the stairs after them.

Silently she crept past the Great hall and through the front door. The snow that had fallen the day before had already melted down to a thin layer of crunchy dust. She strained her ears before going forward. There were voices coming from her right. She lit up her wand, pulled her cloak closer to her body and crept forward. She was getting closer and began to be able to make out what the voices were saying.

"- seen that Ravenclaw girl? Felicity something or other. The blond sixth year with great huge-"

Something about that voice sounded sickeningly familiar. She inched closer.

"I'm determined to have her. Crabbe hand it over here-"

Of course! It was Malfoy! She suddenly found a new burst of energy at the thought of catching the Slytherin prince and stomped forward with new purpose. She could see they were just around the corner. The crunch of her shoes in the snow must have alerted them because she heard, "Shit, someone's coming. Crabbe, hide it." Hide what? Oh, this was gonna be good.

Finally she rounded the corner, her wand drawn and a defiant smirk on her face. There they were the usual annoying trio: Crabbe, Goyle, and of course Draco Malfoy.

Her eyes met with Draco's and his expression suddenly turned to relief. "Ah, it's only Granger," and then that smirk was again plastered to his face. "Let me hit it again, Crabbe." And then from behind his back Crabbe produced a half smoked joint.

"Malfoy! What are you doing?!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide in shock.

He smirked again, "Oh, I'm sorry, Granger. Where are my manners? Did you want some?" He said, holding out the joint to her.

"No!" she sputtered. How was he playing games with her? She could get him into serious trouble!

His smirk increased at her reaction. "Are you sure?" He said, pushing it towards her again. She shook her head in defiance. "Alright, suit yourself." And then he proceeded to take a long drag of the offensive thing.

She blinked in astonishment, "Malfoy! Put it out!"

He peered at her from the corner of his eye and titled his head back, blowing out a long plume of smoke. "Come now, Granger, you wouldn't want me to waste a good product. This is altusleaf, grown by the elves of Marrakesh. Very expensive stuff." And then he took another hit. She watched him let out his smoky cloud and watched his mouth twitch up in a contented smile.

"Malfoy, put it out now." She said, her voice stern and her wand held high.

He laughed at her. Laughed at her! "Why don't you sod off, Granger." Then she watched him go for another hit. She had had enough. She grabbed his arm before the joint found his lips and pulled him after her. The joint was knocked out of his hand and tumbled to the ground, going out with a sad sizzle in the snow.

"Oy!" He shouted, "look what you've gone and done!"

She yanked him forward again and he stumbled after her, "Shut up, Malfoy. I'm taking you to Dumbledore." Then she took a look behind her at Crabbe and Goyle. She had almost forgotten they were there. "You two, get back to your dormitory." They looked back at her stupidly and Malfoy cried out in indignation, "Hey now, that's not fair!"

She smiled back at him as she continued to tug him forward. He resisted and she turned to face him. "Your absolutely right, Malfoy. Ten points from Slytherin. Now," She said, addressing the two goons, "get back to your beds before I change my mind."

They looked to Malfoy unsure and after some hesitation he motioned for them to go ahead. They clumsily jogged past and up the front stairs into the castle.

Malfoy looked down at her curiously, "Why just me? Why'd you let them go?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "You're the only prize I need, getting you detention will be satisfaction enough." She raised her wand up to his chest, "Now walk." He trudged forward through the snow and they mounted the stairs together. "Besides, technically I only saw you smoking. They could be perceived as merely bystanders."

He walked beside her he, silent for a moment. "You know, if you wanted to get me alone all you had to do was ask," He said in a mockingly seductive voice.

"Oh, you found me out, Malfoy. I'm madly in love with you," she said, her voice dead of any emotion.

"I always suspected so. I mean how could any woman resist? Not that you can really be considered a woman, of course."

She would let him have that one. She didn't want to admit to him that the real reason she let the other two go was because she was slightly scared of having to walk down the halls of a dark castle with _three_ male Slytherins .

Malfoy spoke again when they had made their way into the castle doors. "Are you seriously going to bother Dumbledore with this?" He paused before adding, "Besides the old loon would probably try to confiscate my stash just so he could smoke it himself!"

Hermione's mouth hung open in surprise. To accuse the Headmaster of using! "Dumbledore does _not _smoke weed!" She hissed.

"Oh, come on Granger. The old kook's gotta be on something!" He cried, obviously in total belief of his words.

"That's just ridiculous," she sputtered, "Smoking Altusleaf is strictly against school rules and illegal for that matter!" She shook her head at the ridiculousness of his accusation. Malfoy did have a point, thought, about getting Dumbledore involved, however much she hated to admit it. She would hate to wake the Headmaster over something like this. "Perhaps your right, Malfoy, perhaps this isn't a matter for the Headmaster to handle. I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be able to prescribe an appropriate punishment."

Malfoy actually seemed to get nervous at this idea and his face fell. "Listen Granger, why don't we just call this thing off and both get on with our nights," his tone had suddenly become serious.

She sighed, "Believe me Malfoy, I would gladly be in my bed right now and not here with you. But I must uphold school rules whether I like it or not."

Malfoy did not seem to like this answer and his hand suddenly shot out and grabbed her wand arm. He twisted it behind her back and held her firmly against himself. "I don't think you understand, Granger. I don't really care to spend a month in detention." He had a firm grip on her and she was unable to move away from him. Their bodies were very close, mere centimeters from touching. She could feel the hot furry coming off his flesh. He was no longer playing games and the sudden switch in his attitude shocked her. His wand had found its way to his hand and he placed it gingerly at her throat, running it up the length of her neck and forcing her chin up to look at his face. She swallowed her fear and looked him square in the eyes. He bent his head to hiss in her ear, "Take a look around, Mudblood, we're alone. Just me and you in a dark empty corridor." He twisted he wrist further and she withered in pain. "I have plans for tonight and I really hate being inconvenienced. So you're going to give me a warning and let me walk away from this. What do you say, Granger?"

Hermione bit back the cry that was threatening to escape from the back of her throat and choked out, "Unhand me, Malfoy." She hoped she sounded strong and convincing.

"No," he said with a sneer, his wand was at her temple, "I don't think so. I like you just as I have you." His wand slithered down the curve of her cheek, "weak," to the tip of her chin, "powerless," down her neck, "vulnerable," and with a dangerous smirk he lead his inquisitive wand down her chest, the buttons of her collared shirt popping off like flower petals as he made his way down, stopping just above her bra. She turned her face away in angry shame. Her breathing was heavy, a million thoughts running through her mind. "Fine, Malfoy," she spat, "You have your warning." And then she gave him the most hateful glare she could muster. "Now unhand me."

His smirk grew wide, "I knew you'd see it my way." and then he released her and she stumbled back. She rubbed her wrist lightly. There would definitely be a bruise in the morning.

"Well," Malfoy said cheerily, "It was fun, Granger, see you around." He began to walk away towards the Slytherin commons, an arrogant stride in his step.

"Malfoy!" she called out. He turned around in interest. Her eyes were aflame with hatred. She wanted nothing more than to wipe that annoying smirk off his face. But what to say? How to redeem herself? Why was nothing coming to her? She needed to say something witty… or a spell. She needed a good spell, something to teach him a lesson. Damn it, nothing was coming to her mind. She stood there stupidly running through all the spells she had ever learned or read about. Why couldn't she think straight? Malfoy after realizing she wasn't going to say anything more looked at her strangely and then gave a small nod before continuing on his way. Then it came to her! She lifted her wand tenderly and called, "_Excuro Pubertas!_" A jet of red light shot from her wand and hit Malfoy square in the back. He wiped around in shock.

He raised his wand ready to shoot something back at her. "What was that?!" He checked himself for injury, missing digits, warts, green skin. There didn't appear to be anything wrong. "What did you do?" He asked in frustration.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders innocently, "Just a spell I wanted to try out. Guess it didn't work." and then giving him a small smile she said, "enjoy your night, Malfoy." Then she ran away around the corner and up to her dormitory with a sinister smile on her face all the while.

SSS

Draco shook his head in confusion. Enjoy your night? What was that supposed to mean? And what was that nonsense with the spell. Stupid girl couldn't even cast a proper curse! But even as he thought that he knew it wasn't true. He had seen Hermione Granger cast her fair share of nasty hexes. What went wrong with this one? Maybe it wasn't a spell meant for physical mutilation. Maybe it was a psychological hex? He didn't feel any different though. Did he? He shook the thought out of his head. The spell must have simply gone wrong and he, once again, had gotten the last laugh. Yes, the night had turned out to be a good bit of fun.

He smiled as he remembered the thrill of having Hermione Granger at his mercy. She felt so small and frail in his hands, so easily breakable. And she hadn't even seemed scared! She had looked up at him fearlessly, those deep brown eyes full of fire and strength. Always the Gryffindor that one. And the feel of her body under his fingertips. Who knew she had such a sexy body under those heavy robes! Wait! What was he thinking? Hermione Granger was not sexy! She was a bushy haired bookworm put on earth to annoy him to death. Draco shoved his hands deep into his pockets and tried to steer his mind in a different direction. A safer direction. But try as he might all he could think of, god help him, was his wand traveling further and further down Granger's body, buttons popping off one by one as her shirt opened up to expose the smooth ivory skin underneath.

He sighed in relief as he reached the Slytherin dungeons. He gave the password to the Dark Knight (the portrait guarding Slytherin house) and stepped through into the common room. He needed to find Pansy and relieve himself of these annoying thoughts. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting on one of the couches in the common room, evidently waiting to see if he came back alright. They might be stupid but they were damn loyal.

Goyle got up when Draco entered and said, "How'd it go, mate? Did you get detention?" He seemed genuinely concerned.

Draco shook his head with a smile. "Don't worry boys I took control of the situation, no problem."

Crabbe stood up at this, "Granger let you get away with it?"

"I can be very persuasive," said Draco with a smirk. "Now then, have either of you seen Pansy?"

Goyle nodded, "She's waiting for you."

And then without a goodbye Draco walked past them to the seventh year boys dormitory. He loosened his tie as he walked and undid the first button on his shirt. He opened the door. Blaise Zabini was already asleep, quietly snoring. He walked swiftly over to his four poster and drew aside the curtain to find a wonderfully naked Pansy sprawled out on his bed.

She gave him a seductive smile and he jumped on top of her, closing the curtains around them. He hurriedly shrugged off his cloak and leaned forward to hungrily capture her mouth with his own. Her hands were on him at once, helping to undo his buttons and running her fingers across the muscles of his back. His mouth moved from her swollen lips to her delicate neck and down to her breast where he feasted on her firm nipple. Just when he could feel himself grow uncomfortably hard in his pants, Pansy pushed against his chest and whispered, "wait."

He sighed and frustration. "Right, right," and cast a silencing charm around the bed. Then he leaned back in to kiss her again but she put her fingers against his mouth and gave out a little laugh.

"No, not that." She gave him a look and he instantly caught on.

With a nod he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief. He unfolded it to reveal two small blue capsules. Pansy opened her mouth and allowed him to place one on her tongue and he took the other for himself. "I had almost forgotten," he said.

Pansy smiled, "Well that's what I'm here for."

Draco shook his head. "No, this is what you're here for." and with that he pressed his lips against hers and took her breasts in his hands. She laughed against his lips and her fingers trailed down his stomach to unbuckle his belt. With a zip his erection was free…but something didn't feel quite right. There was a slight stinging. He shook it off and tried to concentrate on Pansy who had taken his member in her skilled hands, rubbing up and down. He tried to focus on her mouth which had taken over the work of her hands, her tongue, licking, sucking. But no, there was something wrong. A painful, stinging, burning sensation. He was trying to hold on to the feelings of ecstasy Pansy was giving him but it became too much. He held back hot tears. God!

"Stop! For God's sake, stop!" he yelled. Pansy's head shot up in surprise.

"What's wrong?" she said in angry confusion.

"My dick! It's burning!" He bit out. He felt her move around and then she brought out her wand and lit it up the space around them.

"It looks fine." she said stupidly.

"I can see that!" Draco responded, angrily. "but it feels like its on fire! God, it hurts!" He put a hand around it, trying to sooth away the pain. This only made it worse so he settled for digging his fingernails into his thighs.

"It's not the pill is it?" Pansy said, staring at it closer, "some sort of… really unusual side affect?"

"No, you idiot! We've been taking the pill for more than a week now!" He really felt like slapping her just then.

Pansy hesitated before saying, "Well some sort of… really delayed… really unusual side affect, then." Her logic was astounding. Really how was he always surrounded with idiots. It was a true travesty that the most intelligent conversation he had had all day was with mudblood Granger… Granger!

"Granger did this!" He said, pointing at his still erect, scorching penis.

Pansy laughed, "no, dear, _that _is my work." He could strangle her really.

"No, fuckhead!" he said, trying to ignore the pain and make words come out of his mouth, "Granger! She put a spell on me. I thought it didn't work!" And then he laughed. He actually laughed through his excruciating pain at the brilliance of Hermione Granger. "_Enjoy your night_," she had said. Of course she hadn't messed up a spell. Of course she wouldn't let him get away with what he did. It was brilliant, evil, but absolutely brilliant and he was absurdly stupid for underestimating her.

SSS

**Authors Note:** Sooo what'd you think? it was pretty fun to write. Btw. the spell _Excuro Pubertas_ is something of my own creation contrived with the help of a latin translator. Send me a comment!


	3. Dangerous Studies

**Author's Note: **Pretty short chapter but an important one! The next one will be longer, no worries.

**An Ironic Twist of Fate**

By WaitingforAda

**Chapter Three: Dangerous Studies**

_You know our hearts beat time out very slowly  
You know our hearts beat time they're waiting for something that'll never arrive_

"Shine a Light" by Wolf Parade

SSS

The next afternoon Hermione again found herself in the library with the latest copy of the Daily Prophet and a text book of Magical illnesses. That morning an article had been published about interesting new experimental treatments being performed in Germany where the plague had evidently spread.

_None of the treatments were ultimately successful but one particular potion, using frog secretions as a main ingredient, had been able to abate the incredible pain of the illness for up to a week. Unfortunately the potion has a disastrous side effect. It induced nightmarish visions in its recipients, causing long term mental illness in one patient. Even so, the study has been considered a step forward in many medical circles and further testing is hoped to bring answers._

Hermione scribed down 'frog secretion' on her note pad and was flipping to the index of the medical book when the sound of a giggle caught her attention. She looked around in annoyance, didn't see anyone, and tried to get back to work. She ran her finger down the list: frog eggs, frog eyes, frog intestines, frog legs…

There it was again! That insufferable giggle! And then she heard a deeper voice accompany it. Hermione rolled her eyes. Why did people think the library was a place to snog? The library is place of research and study and some people did not enjoy being distracted by hormonal teenagers!

Letting out a frustrated sigh she bent her head back over her work. Frog secretion, pg 247... That giggle again! And… was that a moan?! Good Lord. Hermione jumped to her feet in annoyance and gathered up her books, her parchment, her quill and her bag and intended to move further to the back of the library. It just so happened however, that as she walked a break in the shelves afforded her a view of the loud couple and Hermione's lips couldn't help but tug up in a smirk.

Draco Malfoy. Again. She couldn't escape that guy! She wondered how her spell had worked. She had never tried it before (for obvious reasons) and she wondered if it had been a dud. From the look of him now it didn't seem as though it had affected his libido at all. He had some blonde girl pressed up against the shelves, his hands all over her body, kissing her neck. Hermione wondered if she should ruin his day yet again and interrupt the two. But for some reason she didn't feel like doing that. For some reason she stayed where she was, half hidden behind a shelf, her arms laden with heavy books, watching her archenemy make out with some blonde… she finally stole a glance at the girls face. It certainly wasn't Pansy. She looked familiar though… who was she…

Of course! Felicity Hudson, the sixth year Ravenclaw he had been going on about last night! He did say he was determined to have her. She wondered if all the girls he hooked up with were so easily persuaded. She peered closer at them. Felicity's fingers were buried in Malfoy's hair and her head was thrown back in pleasure. What was the great appeal?

Now, Hermione was comfortable enough in her hate for him to admit to herself that his physical aesthetic was altogether pleasing (he was tall, well built, had handsome features) but she would think that his insufferable personality would repulse any girl. And yet Draco Malfoy always seemed to have a line of sluts just waiting for him to look their way.

He had covered her mouth with his. She could here them sucking, biting. His hands were wandering. Felicity was softly moaning. Was whatever he was doing that good that girls would abandon their dignity, their self-respect, to be with him? His back was to Hermione, his sleeves rolled up and his shirt, tight against the muscles of his shoulders. His hand was sliding up Felicity's thigh, her skirt pushed up. Her leg wrapped around his. She arched her back into him, her hips connecting with his. Hermione could hear their heavy breathing. "Oh, Draco," Felicity purred. She was aching for him, calling for him, ready to do the dirty right there on a dusty stack of books.

And then suddenly, without warning the moment ended. Draco detached his lips from Felicity and, cool and collected as ever, whispered something in her ear before picking up his bag and walking away.

The haze cleared from Hermione's eyes and she shook herself out of her stupor. She had been biting her lower lip. Blood rushed to her cheeks. How long had she been watching them? She suddenly realized the ache in her arms from holding those books for so long and, oh Gods! He was walking her way!

Moving faster than she thought possible, she sprinted to a table two rows down and sat down with a whoosh, scattering her books around to appear natural. She had opened to a random page and stared at it blankly, holding her breath as he walked past. She could see his figure out of the corner of her eye, could hear his expensive shoes clack against the wood floors. A sigh of relief, she had gone unnoticed.

But no! At the last moment he paused and backed up.

"Granger!" He called cheerily, "just the person I've been hoping to see!"

Her face grew red as he walked toward her. Why had she watched him? What had come over her? How embarrassing! Did he know? Had he seen her?

He came over and leaned against her table, looking down at her. "I just wanted to congratulate you on that marvelous prank you pulled on me yesterday!"

She managed to calm down a bit. It didn't seem as though he had seen her, thank Merlin, and her spell had been a success! He went on talking, "'_Excuro Pubertas_: gives the victim the feeling his manhood has been set on fire upon erection.' Invented by Freda Kirk in 1956 when she found her husband cheating on her with his secretary." He recited this all with a grin.

That was strange. He didn't seem angry at all. There was no talk of revenge, no yelling, not even a threat or a 'mudblood' thrown in! It almost seemed as though he was… proud of her!? He continued on, "Wonderful trick." He slid his hands into his pockets, "I'm just wondering, where does a little Gryffindor do-gooder come across a spell like that?"

She swallowed the embarrassment that was still at the back of her throat and met his amused eyes. She wondered if she should even bother telling him? Did he really care to know? She wasn't sure that he had ever asked her a question that wasn't rhetorical or bitingly sarcastic. "Last Christmas I gave Ron a book of gag spells. Of course I was the one that ended up reading it and I dunno, that particular spell just stuck. Obviously I'd never tried it out before. How'd it go?" she asked with uncomfortable curiosity. Was she really having a conversation with Draco Malfoy about his dick? Had pigs finally learned to fly?

He nodded gravely in remembrance, "It was… effective." And then.. was that a laugh?!

Strangely enough, Hermione found the corners of her own lips tugging up, "I hope there isn't any.. long-term damage," she joked.

He began to shake his head and then, with a dangerous smile, Malfoy stood up to face her and began undoing his belt. "Would you like to see for yourself?"

In startled shock she held up her hand out in front of her face and turned her eyes down to the desk. "Keep it in your pants, Malfoy." and then, "I'll just take your word for it."

But Malfoy wasn't finished joking, "Come on, Granger! I thought you wanted to be a healer!" He rattled his belt noisily, "it's for medicinal purposes."

She stifled a laugh, "Not a chance, Malfoy. Nothing could persuade me to get anywhere near that thing."

Malfoy paused in contemplation, "Strange, that's not the usual reaction it gets… Ah well!" He said, re-buckling his belt, "You'll come around."

"Don't count on it," she muttered. Finally soaking in the extreme strangeness of their conversation, she turned back to her book and tried to look like she was reading it. She noticed Malfoy had picked one up from her stack, "_1000 Magical Maladies and Their Cures_," he read, "sounds fascinating." And then he caught sight of her portfolio with its newspaper clippings sticking haphazardly out the sides. He snatched it up off the table and quickly riffled through her documents.

"Hey!" she said, reaching up and trying to get it back from him.

He turned away from her and shoved her away. After a moment of putting the pieces together he finally looked to her and said, "What are you trying to do here, Granger?"

She didn't answer, only looked up at him with a glare. Back to usual.

He looked back at her portfolio, scanning her extensive, and mostly crossed out, notes. He looked at her like she was insane. "Do you really think you can find the cure? Do you really think you, one insignificant, inexperienced student, can solve a mystery that is puzzling the entire magical world?"

She had never felt so small.

"There are teams of healers and professors out there all devoted to figuring it out. I knew you were arrogant and conceited, always thinking yourself above everyone because you get near perfect marks, but did you really think you had any chance?"

She could feel tears building up in her eyes. How had he brought her down so quickly? How had he uncovered all her fears and self-doubts in just a few seconds? And it was completely true what he said! She couldn't do this! "At least I am trying!" she said, both to herself and to him.

He dropped her portfolio on the table with a thud. "You're wasting your time is what you're doing."

She looked up at him hatefully, "I know that! Do you think I don't understand that?! Do you think I don't realize that I'm wasting hours of my life, every single day, searching and searching, knowing I'm not getting any closer to an answer… and knowing I never will." He looked away from her. "I get it, okay," she said, calmer now, "I get it. But I need to do something. I can't just sit back and pray while the people I love and care for slowly start to die off. I can't just sit around and hope that someone else will find the answer. And yes, Malfoy," he was looking away from her, tight lipped and breathing hard. "maybe I don't have a chance. Hell, maybe none of us do! Maybe we'll all die before we find an answer! But I have to at least try.. because its all I can do." She stopped her tirade and found herself quite out of energy.

She looked at Malfoy, he seemed to be fighting some sort of internal battle. He looked angry and frustrated. Then he turned to her and the look in his eyes startled her. They were so cold and guarded.. gray flecks of ice.. hard.. cold…dead, so very different from the laughing eyes that had joked with her only moments before.

He spoke to her and his voice almost seemed to shake, "You are going to die, Granger. There is no use in trying or hoping. You will die." His fists were clenched, his knuckles white. She could feel wetness on her cheeks, her tears had betrayed her. She brushed them angrily away with the back of her hand.

Draco felt he needed to leave, needed to be away from _her_. He turned his back on her and began to walk away, but then he stopped just before rounding the corner. Hermione waited expectantly. He spoke, his voice lighter but still malicious, "By the way, hope you enjoyed the show earlier," she couldn't see because his back was to her but his smirk was firmly back in place, "This one's free, the next one will cost you." And then he moved swiftly out of sight.

It took Hermione a moment to realize what he was referring to. When it did click she let out a groan and buried her head in her book, the tears flowing freely now.

SSS

**Author's Note: **A little silly, a little intense? What do you think? What does it need? What does it lack? Where do you see this going from here? **Please review!!**


	4. I'll Believe in Anything

**Disclaimer: still don't own HP! **

**An Ironic Twist of Fate**

By WaitingforAda

**Chapter Four: I'll Believe in Anything**

SSS

A week had past and Hermione had not talked to Malfoy since their encounter in the library. In that time two Hufflepuffs had fallen ill and just that morning a Ravenclaw, Cho Chang, had been rushed to the Hospital Wing. As soon as Hermione heard the news she rushed to the Gryffindor common room to find Harry and Ron. Harry was pacing angrily and Ron was sitting on the arm of the couch, watching him helplessly.

"Hermione!" said Ron, when he saw her come in. He got up and caught her in a hug, "thank God you're here. This news about Cho has really shaken him up."

She nodded grimly and walked over to Harry, "Harry, are you alright?" This was the girl Harry had had a huge crush on for years. The girl he had shared his first kiss with. And now this girl had basically been sentenced to death. Of course he wasn't alright.

He shook his head and whispered, "It's really happening isn't it?" Ron and Hermione remained silent. "It's really happening and there's nothing I can do about it." He looked up at them, "I'm so used to fighting.. Or at least having the option. This disease… It can't be fixed with a wand and some difficult spells." He was frightened.

"Harry, mate," said Ron, tentatively, "you can't put this on yourself. We're all just as helpless as you."

"But I can't do this," he said, "I can't just sit here and wait. I can't be a sitting duck while the world falls apart."

Hermione nodded in agreement, remembering her own conversation with Malfoy a week ago. He had told her she would die. And that there was nothing she could do to stop it. He had brought her from laughter to tears in mere minuets. How did he always bring out the most intense emotions in her?

Hermione was pulled from her thoughts when Harry spoke again, quietly, hesitantly. "I think Voldemorts behind this."

Hermione gave out a grave chuckle, "Come on, Harry-"

"No really!," he interjected, "It fits. Think about it Hermione, both wizards and muggles are dieing but you don't hear about any wealthy purebloods getting sick." Hermione opened her mouth to object but Harry continued, "and even in the school! Look who's gotten sick: Two Ravenclaws, two Hufflepuffs and a Gryffindor! Not a single Slytherin has had so much as a cough." Hermione's eyes widened. He was right, the Slytherins hadn't had any cases of illness thus far.. but that could simply be chance. As far as the pureblood families in England, especially those they knew to be associated with Voldemort, well, she would have to do more research to make that conclusion.

Harry spoke again, "And besides that, you must have noticed the lack of Death Eater attacks recently. They've been far too quiet for awhile now."

He was right about this too but Hermione had always assumed it was because they too were afraid of contamination, that they were lying low until the plague passed.

"Even so, Harry," she said, skeptically, "do you really think Voldemort would be capable of something like this?"

Harry sat down on the couch and ran his fingers through his hair, "I wouldn't put it past him. I've spoken to Dumbledore about this and he reckons I may be right."

"Harry," she said, sitting next to him, "are you certain you're not just saying this to.. to put this new challenge in a perspective you can understand? Does connecting this to Voldemort maybe help you to think that its something you can take on and possibly defeat?"

He looked at her coldly, "I'm not just throwing around words here, Hermione. I've thought a lot about this. This disease came on too suddenly and too mysteriously to have natural origins. This is the work of Voldemort… I can feel it."

Hermione stared at her hands. Maybe he was right. But was it really possible? Then Ron spoke up, "Can a disease tell the difference between pureblood and muggleborn?"

Hermione's head shot up, "No. Its not possible."

Harry shrugged, "Maybe he's manipulated it to recognize genetics or something."

Hermione shook her head in frustration. "No, there's been tests. There is no genetic difference between a pureblood and a muggleborn. Its all just a social manifestation."

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Well maybe he gave his followers some sort of vaccine."

"A what?" asked Ron.

"Like some sort of cure," Harry continued. "He must have found a cure before releasing something this deadly. Otherwise it would totally backfire on him. If this does work, we'll all die off until the world is full of nothing but his servants." He paused thoughtfully. "This is it, this is his 'final solution'," He said with finality, "This is his way of achieving his ideal world."

SSS

Later that day Hermione found herself working a shift in the health center. It had been a busy day, Hagrid had given the second years some blast-ended skrewts to work with. Needless to say, she had been healing bites, stings, and burns all afternoon. At the moment however the rush was over and the room was quiet. She collapsed in a chair. How did Madame Pomfrey do this 24/7? Then she reminded herself that if she did become a healer at Saint Mungo's she would be doing this 24/7. She laughed a little to herself, might as well get used to it now.

Hermione sighed, soaking in the silence. It had been a busy week. She'd been spending every afternoon either in the health center or helping Professor Sprout harvest ingredients for Professor Snape's potions. And then every night she had spent either in the library, doing homework, or holding meetings with Ernie (the Head Boy) to brief the prefects on how to deal with a student getting sick in their house. The last meeting had not gone so smoothly...

_She been explaining the procedures they were to take if they were to find a sick student when a fifth year Ravenclaw interrupted her. "It says here," he said, holding up the handout she had given out at the start of the meeting, "that if we can not find a teacher we are expected to take the student to the hospital wing ourselves."_

_Hermione nodded, "Yes, in the event that a teacher can't be located it will be your duty as a leader of your house to make sure the sick student is safely transported to the hospital wing." she paused in confusion, "is that a problem?"_

_The boy looked at her incredulously, "Well yeah, I'd say it is. I don't want to have to risk my own neck for no reason." She could see there was fear in the back of his eyes._

_"What do you mean 'for no reason'?" Ernie asked._

_He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Well, if the persons sick, it's pretty much a given they're gonna die right. It's a lost cause, no reason to get myself infected too."_

_The room fell into uncomfortable silence._

_"It's called being brave!" Ginny Weasley spoke up._

_"It's called not being an asshole!" someone else added._

_But Hermione could see the fear on all their faces. They were, all of them, terrified to die. Then she stole a glace at the Slytherins, at Draco Malfoy. She had been avoiding looking at him since the library, when he let her know he had seen her staring at him and Felicity. He was leaning back in his chair, calm, collected. He didn't look afraid. In fact, none of the Slytherins looked at all worried. She had thought it strange._

_Then someone had spoken up, "I agree with Gregory." A small, meek voice. It was a girl, a sixth year Hufflepuff. She was looking at her hands in shame. Perhaps this was too much to ask of them._

_Softly Hermione spoke, "This will be applied only in very rare circumstances, I assure you. I am sure it will be easy enough to find a teacher if you need to" then as an after thought, "or myself. You can always come to me for help." She flipped through her copy of the packet, "Also, on page two there is a list of precautions one can take." She looked up. Draco Malfoy was staring at her, a strange look in his eye. He seemed angry and almost…regretful? Sad? He wasn't looking away either. She forced her attention back to the packet, "Um, the spell Alio Sanitas will disinfect you well enough but you should also wash thoroughly after contact with an infected person and.." he was still staring, "the bed sheets of the person must, of course, be burned." What was that look in his eye? It was almost like he was-_

The classroom door opened and Hermione hopped to her feet to attend to her new patient. She shook Draco Malfoy out of her mind and turned her attention on the student walking through the door. He was a boy, looked about her age, tall, curly hair, Ravenclaw robes, handsome… oh and his arm was gushing blood.

"Hello!" he said in an alarmingly cheery voice for his condition, "Seems I've had a bit of an accident."

Hermione's eyes widened, "I'll say you have! Come, sit down," she said, ushering him to a hospital bed. She quickly hurried over to the cupboard and found some bandages and gaze. She pulled a chair up to the bed and took his arm in her hands to inspect it. "Doesn't look like you've broken any bones." She took to healing his wounds as best she could, wiped away the blood and began wrapping his arm in gauze, starting at the thumb.

"Hermione is it?" He asked. She looked up and nodded. Oh God, she didn't know his name. In fact, she didn't recognize him at all.

"I'm sorry," she said guiltily, "I don't know your name."

He laughed, "I wouldn't expect you to." Then he held his good hand out for her to shake, "Paul Brennan."

She smiled, "nice to meet you Paul." She looked back to her work. How had she never noticed him in her seven years at Hogwarts? "What year are you, Paul?"

"Seventh," He answered her with amusement.

She looked at him quizzically. "How have I never met you before?"

He had a wonderful smile, "This is my first, and consequently last, year at Hogwarts. My family moved back to England earlier this summer." He could tell she wanted to know more so he went on, "I grew up in Africa, the Congo. My parents were missionaries there."

"Oh that's wonderful," she said, grinning. "I hate to tell you this, but you picked a rather lousy time to come back to England."

He laughed, "Well I suppose that depends on how you choose to look at it. To a missionary's eye being in England during an epidemic is a wonderful opportunity to help people. My parents are both healers as well so now that we're here we're not going anywhere."

She looked at him aghast. Did people like this really exist in the world. "Aren't they at all afraid? Aren't you afraid?"

He became serious. "Of death? No, there are worse things than death. Of the pain? Yes, of that I admit I am. If I were to catch this illness I don't think I'd like them to try to keep me alive."

"But what if you died and the cure was found the next day!?" she cried.

He laughed again, "Well that would just be all sorts of bad timing!" The corners of her lips curled up in a small smile.

She finished wrapping his arm up. "All finished!" She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Do you. Do you mind if I ask how that happened?" she said hesitantly. His wounds were really quite strange. A bunch of short, clean cuts all up his forearm.

He smiled and some color came to his cheeks. "Well its really quite embarrassing actually. But if you must know…" Hermione looked at him expectantly. "I tried to bewitch a pair of scissors. Went a little wrong, as you can plainly see."

She let out a little giggle. "Hey!" he said in mock offense, "When you spend your childhood running about the jungle you don't exactly learn all the essential spells a wizard needs to know!"

She tried to stifle another laugh, "No, no, this sort of thing happens all the time!" she joked, "why, just the other day one of my scarves tried to hang me! Awful bit of trouble that was! Almost took up company with Nearly Headless Nick!"

He held out his hands in mock protest, "Please, please, don't try to make me feel better, really, I'm quite comfortable with my inadequacy." Then his face turned quite serious. His eyes were a lovely shade of Hazel. "Besides, if it weren't for my poor spell casting I wouldn't have been privy to the excellent, skilled and tender care of Hermione Granger." He smiled coyly. Hermione could quite literally feel herself melt. Words weren't coming out of her mouth. She was just staring at him in wonder.

"Well," he said, "I suppose I should get going then." She smiled dumbly and stood to see him out.

"I hope this isn't the last we see of each other." He said softly.

"Yes," she breathed. Why couldn't she make words come out of her? Her head felt dizzy.

"Goodbye." He gave her a dashing smile and then left just as suddenly as he had come.

"Bye!" she called, just before the door closed.

Great! Just great! Now she finds the perfect guy! The perfect guy who seems to be interested in her! Now he comes into her life just as a major epidemic is sweeping through England. Get it out of your head, Hermione! This is no time for romance! Then she paced for half and hour and read the ingredients to every potions bottle in the room until her shift was over.

SSS

A few hours later, after Hermione had finished all her homework, she decided to go to Gryffindor tower to see Ron and Harry. She thought some good conversation and a nice roaring fire was just what she needed. However, when she entered the common room she found the entire Gryffindor house before her, clumped together and talking noisily. Standing on the tips of her toes, she looked around and spotted Harry and Ron by the fireplace with Ginny, Neville, Seamus and Dean.

When she reached them she asked, "What's going on?" She had to yell to be heard.

"Parvati," Ron responded, "She's leaving."

Hermione stared at him wide eyed. "Leaving?!" she was grasping for words, "But its not safe out there!"

"Its not exactly safe here either anymore," Seamus said. This was true, she knew it was. A Hufflepuff had already left earlier in the week, said his family was fleeing the country, but for some reason Hermione never expected a Gryffindor to be one of the first to leave.

The room suddenly got even louder and Hermione looked over her shoulder to see what was happening. It was Parvati. She was coming down the stairs of the girls dormitory, tears down her face. Lavender was behind her, helping with her trunk.

Their group pushed themselves through the crowd to meet her.

"Parvati!" Hermione cried.

Their eyes met, "Hermione! I'm so glad you're here. I was afraid I wouldn't get to see you before I left!" She gathered Hermione in a hug. They had never been very close but they had shared a dormitory for six years. Hermione squeezed her tight.

"Parvati," she said, quite serious, "are you sure you must leave?"

Parvati nodded, "My father has written and told Padama and myself that mama doesn't have much time. We have to go, Hermione…It's our mother." She was crying even harder now. "We have to go."

"But you won't be able to come back!" Hermione cried.

Parvati nodded solemnly, she had obviously given this a lot of thought. "I know," she whispered. She gave her a small smile, "Goodbye, Hermione. Be safe."

She moved on to say goodbye to Harry and to Ron and to all the other friends she was leaving. She hugged all of them. Ron hid his tears. Dean kissed her cheek. Ginny told her to write.

Then the most difficult moment had come, she turned to Lavender, her closest and dearest friend. They were beyond words. They fell onto each other in a hug, squeezing as tight as they possibly could, both crying, both shaking, both knowing they may never see the other again.

Finally, and with an astounding amount of grace, Parvati gathered up her belongings and made for the portrait hole. The crowd parted as she walked through. They patted her back, wished her well, called goodbye.

Just as she was about to step through the doorway, Parvati gave one last turn of her head, took in the common room, took in the tapestries and curtains and high ceilings, took in the warmth and the smell of pine, took in all the faces surrounding her, every one of them. It was then, as her eyes connected with Hermione's for the briefest of moments, that Hermione knew. Perhaps it was the light about her head or the way she help up her small hand in a wave goodbye, but somehow Hermione knew that this would be the last time she would see her, that Parvati was walking to her death.

And then she was gone.

SSS

**Author's Note: **not a lot of Dramonie action in this chapter. ill try to make up for that next time. btw i totally hate new characters in fanfictions but hopefully Paul wasn't too hateful! i tried to make him semi-funny to make his presence less annoying. he is important to the plot tho! more to come... review! i'm not getting a whole lot of response on this story! and i really want to know what you guys think of this plot! do you guys have predictions for what happens next?


	5. Human Skin can be Hard to Live in

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!  
**

**An Ironic Twist of Fate**

**WaitingforAda  
**

**Chapter 5: What's This Feeling?**

SSS

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself as she stepped out of the castle and into the biting November air. It seemed to be getting colder with every passing day and Hermione found herself missing the feeling of sunshine on her face, the sound of birds chirping in the morning. She pulled her hat down over her ears and took to a brisk walk. The sooner she reached the Greenhouse, the sooner she could return to the lovely fire crackling away in the common room. She skipped down the gentle slope of a hill. She could see the greenhouse in the distance. She could also see a peculiar group of students gathered around a cluster of rocks. Who would be sitting out in this weather? And this far from the castle? She squinted in curiosity. A shock of blond stood out. Draco Malfoy was sitting casually upon a boulder, Blaise Zambini close beside him. She observed the rest of the circle. no, not a circle. They appeared to be lined up. For what? and then she saw that Malfoy had something in his hand. A bunch of little somethings. He was handing them out!

Hermione Granger had never witnessed a drug deal before but she was pretty sure that's what she was seeing now. The group of students turned to leave and Hermione changed her course. Straight for Draco Malfoy. Smoking altusleaf was one thing, but selling drugs was something entirely different. He was expelled for sure! She took a deep breath as she trudged forward. She had reached the group of buyers and they stared at her as she passed by. What they must think to see the head girl walking toward a drug outlet. She hadn't stopped them, so for all they knew she was one of them! How scandelous. She didn't care though. She wasn't stopping for them. Draco Malfoy was who she wanted.

He looked up at her as she reached them. First there was surprise, then... what was that? Amusement? There was definitely some sort of sick smile in his eyes.

"Malfoy!" she called authoritatively. She stopped a few feet in front of them. "I was shocked before, but this is just inconceivable! I thought even you had more sense then this!"

He looked like he was about to laugh at her. "Excuse me, Granger, but could I ask, to what do you refer? Sitting on a rock certainly can't be so offensive."

Blaise Zambini watched her cooly.

"I think you know exactly what I am referring to, Malfoy!" He seemed to be waiting for a clue. "Your dealing drugs!" she accused, wide-eyed.

They both laughed now.

"Listen Malfoy, I know you think you run this school, but this is it. You're done. You and your friend both." She watched them as they bit back laughter. "Really, I don't understand why you're laughing."

"You're a bit off the mark, Granger," Blaise said smugly.

"Am I? How so? I saw a line of people here a moment ago, and you, passing out pills!" Truth be told, she hadn't been close enough to see that whatever he had been handing out had been pills, but it helped her argument to assume so.

Malfoy finally spoke. "Think about it Granger, why would I sell drugs. Really, I mean, drug dealers sell drugs to get money, to turn around a profit and the like. Believe me, money is not something I lack. It wouldn't be worth the risk, you see." She supposed that made sense. She really hadn't been close enough to clearly see what Malfoy was doing. Perhaps she jumped to conclusions. Perhaps her prejudice had gotten in the way of making a fair judgement.

But no... There was that look in his eye. That irritating smirk that told her she was right. She could feel it.

"I don't by it, Malfoy." She said, tightly. "Empty your pockets."

He looked at her incredulously. "I don't think I will." Blaise folded his hands devensively. Then that annoying smirk was on Malfoy's lips. "If you want to search me, you'll have to do it yourself."

"Really, Malfoy! I'm not in the mood to play these games with you! Empty your pockets." Her teeth were chattering. So cold.

"Really, Granger. I'm not playing around. I don't have to show you anything. If you want to see what's in my pockets, go ahead, I've never stopped a woman from reaching around in my pants before."

Blaise laughed.

Her eyes narrowed. She bit her lip. Was it worth it? Perhaps she should turn around and continue on her way to the greenhouse. Pretend she hadn't seen a thing. But she'd sure love to see Malfoy get expelled. He probably did have something on him and figured she wouldn't call his bluff. It wasn't like she really had any evidence at the moment. If she wanted to see him sent home she'd need to prove he was selling drugs. She supposed she didn't have the right to force him really. That left one option.

"Fine." She said, shocking everyone present. She dropped her bag and in three strides closed the distance between them. The stupid smirk on Malfoy's face cemented her decision. He slid off the rock and held his arms out, giving her room to look around.

She gritted her teeth and dug in. Starting first with his cloak. She reached into his deep pockets and took out his wand, tossing it on the ground. Besides that they were empty. Damn. Now to the hard part. She quickly dug her hand into his right pant pocket, trying deperately to ignore the feel of his tigh beneath the fabric, the well toned muscles, the heat radiating from his body, and the area that her hand was dangerously close to. She reached around and got her hand around some items.

"Oo, Granger, you're doing me right." He joked. She could hear Blaise chuckle. She angrily pulled out the contents of his pocket. Some galleons, loose scraps of paper, some lint. She threw it all on the ground. He didn't like that. And dug into the left pocket. She pulled out a comb (figured) and a set of keys. She threw these on the ground as well. Damn. No pills, no weed, nothing. She put her hands on her hips, frustrated.

"Am I next?" Blaise asked, egarly. She shot him a glare.

"I told you I had nothing. I could strip down if you want a thorough investigation." His hands went to his fly. Why was he always trying to show her his penis?

"Thats not necessary." She said quickly. "I have to go, I have things to do." The two Slytherins smiled in victory. "But listen, I know you two were up to something. Don't think I won't find out!"

Then with a frustrated huff she picked up her bag, swung it over her shoulders, and marched off towards the greenhouse. Her detour had already made her late. She was supposed to have delivered Madame Sprout's latest crop of ploratus seedlings to Snape ten minutes ago. She would have to deal with Malfoy another time.

When Granger was out of the sight, Malfoy and Blaise snikered to themselves. "Nicely done, Malfoy. I thought we were caught for sure." Blaise said.

"Nah. Granger's easy enough to handle." Malfoy sighed.

"You played her nicely, though. Never thought I'd see _her_ reaching around in your pants!" He laughed and heard Blaise add, "Gryffindor cunt."

For some reason that bothered Draco. He brushed off the feeling and reached around behind him. There was a deep grouve in the rock formation, a nice place to hide things. He pulled out a bag filled with little blue pills.

SSSS

Hermione had just dropped off the seedlings with Professor Snape and was making her way to the library when she was met with an unexpected though entirely pleasent surprise.

"Well hello there!" greeted Paul Brennan as he jumped out in front of her.

"Ohmygod!" she cried, throwing her hand to her heart and dropping the books in her arms.

He flashed her a gorgeous smile and bent down to pick up her fallen items. She crouched down as well.

"You shouldn't jump out and scare people like that!" she reprimanded.

"I assure you, it wasn't my intention." He apologized with another incredible smile. She could literally feel herself melting. "Although," he added devilishly, "I must say the look on your face made it more than worth it."

She swatted at him playfully.

Then he stared at her face for a moment, "You look cold." His eyes were locked with hers. She absently felt him slip her books into her hands. "Your cheeks are pink." He muttered.

"I was outside," she breathed, raising her palm to her face, although at this point she could safely assume that any color in her face was his doing, not the weathers.

He stood and she followed. "Would you like to grab a mug of hot chocolate with me?"

Her breath hitched, "Um, Yeah. Yes, I'd love to."

He flashed her his smile again and she couldn't help but return it.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione found herself sitting across from Paul with a steaming cup of hot chocolate in her hands and a smile as big as the moon on her face.

"No! You can't be serious!" she cried, laughing out loud.

"I am perfectly serious! First day of class and I blow up a cauldron. Here's the best part, my potion flew all over my partner and she started malting! That's right, malting! Some how I gave her feathers!" Hermione was bent over in hysterics, with tears in the corners of her eyes. "Oh but you should have seen the look on Snape's face. It was truly horrific. I think he popped a few blood vessels he was glaring at me so hard. Gave me detention for a month. Talk about bad first impressions!" Hermione was wiping the corners of her eyes. "Oh and then.." he began to say.

Hermione held up her hands in protest. "Please, no more! My cheeks are sore from laughing!" He smiled greatly, seemingly proud of his performance. "No but truly. You might give Neville Longbottom a run for his money."

"Who?" He asked.

"You don't know Neville?" She asked. "I'll have to introduce the two of you some day. Oh what a potions team the two of you would make!" and then she burst out laughing again at the visual that presented.

Paul tried to hold a pout on his face but laughed as well.

"Yes, I know. My failures do make for rather amusing stories but they truly are becoming a bit of a problem." He leaned forward as if to tell a secret. "I begin to wonder whether I will even be able to graduate at all this year."

Hermione's smile fell away rather quickly and she took on a horrified expression. "Not graduate? But that would be awful! I could tutor you! Yes. I'm sure I can. We will bring your grades up and I dare say that by Spring you'll be a wonderfully successful wizard." She smiled encouragingly. Paul looked down at his mug and didn't say anything in response. Hermione rushed to fix whatever damage she had caused. "That is if you want to be tutored. I'm sure you can work it out on your own. Or perhaps I should just mind my own business, sorry-"

"Hermione," calm down he said, chuckling at her. "No, no its very nice of you to offer to tutor me. Fantastic in fact." He paused but she could tell there was something more.

"What's the matter then?" she asked.

He looked up at her sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous. It's just, it's one thing to poke fun at my lack of magical talent, to make a joke of it to make you laugh. But I must admit, I'd be a bit embarrassed to perform for you, to have you see my stupidity."

Her eyes filled with shock and she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Paul, you are _not_ stupid! You're right you _are_ being ridiculous! Any deficiency you have is a set back of your former education, not a reflection of your magical ability!"

He laughed at her but seemed slightly comforted by her words. "How would you know, Hermione. You've known me only a couple days, hardly enough time to gauge my magical capabilities."

She looked at him with soft eyes. "I just know."

She realized she was still holding his hand and awkwardly dropped it and pretended to stir her hot chocolate.

"Alright then," he said quietly. "If you promise that you will not laugh at me, I will do it."

She smiled broadly, "excellent!"

He didn't smile back, "Do you promise?"

She smirked and raised her right hand, "I promise I will not laugh at you."

He nodded, "Alright then, It's a deal," and he reached across the table to shake her hand.

SSS

After another half hour of pleasant conversation Hermione announced, regretfully, that she had to be off to the library. She really did have work to do! Paul nodded, did he seem disappointed? She couldn't help smiling to herself. Hermione hadn't been interested in a guy or caught the interest of anyone else since fourth year when Victor Krum took a peculiar liking to her. Well of course there was that on and off again thing with Ron, but she figured that ship sailed long ago. It was a nice feeling, being attracted to someone, having them attracted to her. And Paul was the perfect guy for her, generous, funny, kind, brave... she forced herself to halt her train of thought. She should not get ahead of herself, she wasn't even positive that he was in to her. For all she knew he was just very friendly and she was reading too far into things, misinterpreting his intentions.

She stood and turned to collect her books when she found Paul had already taken the liberty of taking them for her. Her heart fluttered. How could she misread that?

"Um, thanks." she smiled, pushing her hair behind her ear.

"I figure I have nothing much else I'd rather do at the moment. Do you mind if I walk with you."He flashed another brilliant smile.

Don't blush. Don't Blush. Too late. "Of course not."

She rounded the table and they made their way out the door and down the hall. As they walked, Hermione slightly regretted letting him hold her books for her. She suddenly wasn't sure what to do with her hands.Why did she suddenly feel so fidgety and awkward? She never remembered being this giddy or dimwitted around Victor.

"So is it a healer you want to be after you graduate?" Paul asked breaking the silence she hadn't even realized had grown between them.

"Oh, yeah. At least its my intention. Of course I'll have to spend a few more years studying and it will be a lot of work but its really the only thing I can think of doing anymore." Had she said that all too fast? It felt like she was talking very fast.

Paul sighed, "I envy you. I have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life." He shook his head.

"You'll figure it out." She said in encouragement. How could someone who seemed so cool and confident be so lost?

He smiled down at her, "Oh well, live in the moment, right?" then his face leaned down closer to her ear, "and i must say I'm enjoying the present very much just now."

Hermione imagined her face to be fire truck red at that moment and suddenly found it difficult to swallow. There was no way that could be misinterpreted. Right?

They had reached the library and Hermione still could not make words come out of her mouth.

"Well here we are." he sighed. He passed the books back into her clumsy hands. She still hadn't spoken. He grinned. "Well, I had a really nice time getting to know you Hermione. Almost makes me excited about tutoring!" He was still grinning, "almost." He winked. She let out a little chuckle that seemed to crack in her throat. Tutoring, right. How had she already forgotten? Well, she would certainly have to be more coherent then. Seriously, why was she acting so ridiculous! "Well," he went on, "I'll see you soon." Her silence was becoming uncomfortable, this much she could tell. He gave her another smile and turned to go.

She caught his arm before he could and forced her mouth to open, "Paul!" He turned around expectantly, taking a step forward. They were close now. She could smell his cologne "I. I just wanted to thank you. That was exactly what I needed." She smiled up at him and he grinned back, his eyes wide and hopeful.

"I can assure you, the pleasure was entirely mine." He responded coolly. Her heart skipped a beat as his hand rose to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She shivered as his fingertips brushed against her skin. Good god.

"See you later then, Hermione." She nodded. She was a mute once again. Hermione didn't care what Paul said, he definitely had some sort of magical abilities.

He turned on his heel then and she watched him walk down the corridor. It wasn't until he was a good 60 meters away that Hermione shook herself out of her strange trance and made her way for the library doors. Unfortunately it was just at that moment that Draco Malfoy happened to make a reappearance. God no! She screamed internally. She would not let him ruin her wonderful mood.

"Granger!" She kept walking and reached for the door. "Granger!" She heard again.

She rolled her eyes, "what do you want, Malfoy?" she didn't turn to look at him, just waited with her hand on the door handle.

"Was that the new guy you were just with?" She could feel him seething behind her. That was strange.

"Yeah," she sighed, still a little dreamy. "what's it to you?" she asked defensively.

"I'd stay away from him if I were you." He bit out. She chanced a glance in his direction. He looked angry. Why would her talking to a new student make him angry?

"Well its a good thing you're not me then." she responded, unaffected. Then she pulled open the door, fully intent on ignoring him.

"For once I couldn't agree more." He said, cringing at the thought of being Hermione. He followed in after her as if she'd extended an invitation. "But truly, it's not a good idea to get involved with him." Madame Pince looked up as he spoke and Hermione glared at him.

"Why? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't be friends with Paul," she whispered, annoyed. "he's sweet, generous, kind, much better than my current company I must say."

Malfoy opened his mouth to answer but Hermione kept on, "and I really don't think it is your place, Draco Malfoy, to tell me who I should and should not associate with. I don't see why you should even care, it's not like we're friends or anything," she hissed, "quite the opposite actually."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. Why did he care that Hermione had a stupid crush on this good for nothing Paul Brennan guy. Sure he knew the guy was dirt but Draco didn't hold any responsibility to this girl. He could care less if her heart got broken. In fact it should be exactly what he wanted, shouldn't it? "Fine, he bit back. I suppose it will be more entertaining for you to find out on your own." He smiled cruelly. "But don't say I didn't warn you.

Then he turned his back on her and strode out of the library with a confident bounce to his step. Why had he even confronted her to begin with? He tried to remember what he had felt to make him react that way, for it was a reaction, not a conscious decision that had made him walk up to Hermione. He had been angry, he realized. And had suddenly felt, protective? of Granger? It didn't make sense at all. He remembered the scene he had walked in on. Granger had been looking up at Paul with such devout admiration. It made him sick to remember it, that look. It seemed wrong, misplaced. That look on her face wasn't meant for fucking Paul Brennan. But something told Draco that he wouldn't have liked that look on any other man either. There was the anger again. He brushed it off. Maybe he was coming down with something. In any case something must not be right with his head. He had never cared about Hermione Granger's petty romances before. Sure the Victor Krum fling had gotten his attention but it hadn't made him angry. And that on going thing with Ron Weasley was simply funny, something to exploit. But suddenly this was different. Where did this guy even come from anyways? Stop it, Draco. She's a fucking Mudblood. Certainly not worth all this thought. But that look... she was swooning! This random kid had made Hermione Granger swoon. Draco's imagination ran away with what Brennan possibly could've done to make her swoon.

"Malfoy!" He was shaken from his embarassing thoughts by a most unwelcome Ernie Macmillian. He looked around and realized he wasn't even walking in the right direction. He almost blushed, like Ernie had caught him doing something wrong.

"What do you want Macmillian," he asked cooly.

"Well I," Ernie looked flushed, his arms were full with papers, "I need you to post some of these in the Slytherin common room," he said quickly, "and anywhere else you think is appropriate." He picked up about a forth of the pile and handed it over to Draco.

Draco's hands stayed firmly in his pockets as he looked down at Macmillian's pile. There was no way he was going to deal with this now. He knew what the fliers were. Written up lists of what to avoid and what precautions to take now that the sickness had reached Hogwarts. Draco also knew that no one in Slytherin house would read it.

He shoved past Ernie, "Give them to Zambini, I'm busy."

But Ernie's voice fallowed him as he walked away. "Malfoy, please," he was out of breath, his voice shaking. "I need you to." he didn't sound so good, "need...do this." He was becoming incoherent. Draco paused but did not turn around. He could hear Ernie's labored breathing behind him. So Macmillian is next, he thought. Interesting.

"Oh God," he heard Ernie moan. The realization had reached him too. There was a shaky, stiffled cry and then Draco heard Ernie's stack of papers fall from his hands with a great woosh and flutter as they settled on the floor. He turned around slowly. Ernie was propped up against the wall, trying to hold himself up. There was fear in his eyes, and why wouldn't there be? He was good as dead. He looked at Draco and his face twisted in pain and he repeated his earlier plea, "Malfoy, please." His face was red, he was sweating violently. Draco stood still and watched. "Malfoy," Ernie's weak voice called. Then he began to shake and Draco watched as all the strength left his body and he sank to a pathetic heap on the floor. He was shaking uncontrollably, spasims running all up and down his body, the sound of his limbs knocking against the floor.

Draco had never actually seen the sickness in person before and he found himself fascinated. Fascinated but also horrified. He was surprised by this. He was supposed to want this. To enjoy this. To laugh in Ernie's face and leave him to his painful death. But how could enjoy this? How could he laugh at the sight of a boy he had known since childhood deteriorating before his eyes. Suddenly the sickness was not so distant, not so irrelevant to Draco's life. Even when Trelawney and the other students fell ill he was able to brush it aside as part of the master plan. He was able to push it out of his mind. But now it was right in front of his face, calling for him to do something. A voice in the back of his head told him to leave Macmillian there on the floor, to kick him while he was down there. But another, stronger voice was desperately scrambling to find a reason to deliver this boy some relief.

But how would he explain helping Macmillian to his father. To the Dark Lord? He could say he had been seen, that he had to act to keep appearances up. It could work, but it was weak. He needed a logical reason. Some way that he or is side could be benefited by his actions. Some how he needed to gain power from being selfless. Seemed impossible.

But no! Ernie was Head Boy. Yes of course! Draco already knew he would be up there on the list for a replacement. He was a seventh year prefect, had excellent marks, a leader of his house, Quidditch captain, he had all sorts of things to recommend him. But he also knew that many of the other professors on the board were suspicious of him, thought him cruel, a bully, unwilling to help fellow students, not to mention that little Death Eater rumor. If he helped Macmillian and put on a good enough show, maybe he would sway the vote. It was worth a shot, and if it worked out there would be no question of his intentions.

His eyes narrowed and he focused on Ernie's squirming body on the floor. He blocked out his face, block out any familiar features. He was no longer a boy Draco had known since childhood. He was a way for Draco to get what he wanted. An Evil grin grew on Draco's face and he slowly crept towards Ernie, his wand raised. The fear was back in Ernie's eyes, but now for an entirely different reason.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

SSS

**A/N: So this chapter was long coming but I've been rather busy! If anyone wants me to continue this story I'm gonna need reviews and a little motivation! Please Review!**

**p.s. don't worry there will be more Dramonie action soon! **


	6. The Devil does Dance

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the clothes on my back.**

**An Ironic Twist of Fate**

**WaitingforAda**

**Chapter Six: The Devil does Dance**

SSS

That night was a sleepless one for Hermione. Her head seemed to lay heavier on her pillow, laden down with troubled thoughts.

Ernie. How could Ernie be sick? Ernie who had been her Head Boy, who she had worked with, lived with. They had never been close outside of school duties but they shared a mutual respect and appreciation for each other and Hermione had always admired his hard work and dedication. It was just inconceivable for Hermione to imagine life without him anymore. Those short encounters in the common room, friendly smiles in the hall, hearing him ask a question in class. Not to mention all the Head duties that he wouldn't be there for, planning prefect meetings, balancing the class budget, meetings with Dumbledore, patrolling on Friday nights. Now these activities would be shared with a large question mark instead of Ernie. He had so much become a part of her life without her realizing it and now she felt the hole he left tearing away at her heart.

She wiped away her tears with the edge of her blanket and considered that question mark that would take his place. Who would they choose to fill the position? She could think of no one in the year nearly as qualified. She supposed it would be a current prefect. Although, perhaps Dumbledore would surprise her, perhaps he would take a different approach. She found her mind exploring the possibilities and secretly prayed that he would choose none other than Harry Potter to lead their class in such a troubled time. Harry would be the perfect choice, she thought, he would spread hope around the school. Harry was a leader, trustworthy, and she knew he would do the job brilliantly. The only problem, she was sure Harry would decline. She knew it wasn't something he wanted and she knew he already felt the burden of fighting Voldemort. He wouldn't want any more responsibility, but the more Hermione thought upon it, the stronger her conviction became that he was the perfect man for the position. First thing in the morning she would talk to Dumbledore, petition for Harry to be Head Boy and then she would talk to Harry and do her best to convince him to accept.

At this decision her thoughts ran short. She was horrible, just awful. Hours after Ernie entered the hospital wing and already she was picking out his replacement. Guilt filled her head and she drifted off into an uncomfortable state of half consciousness where Ernie's ghost haunted her for eternity.

SSS

As morning broke, Hermione awoke to a tap on the window. She looked around wide-eyed and took in her surroundings. Nothing was familiar and she immediately panicked. She was not in her room and she was not in her bed. She reached around for her wand and as her fingers weaved around it memories of the day before broke through the fog and reached her head. No, she was not in her room but not for any sinister reason. Ernie had been admitted to the hospital wing and the Head common rooms were being thoroughly disinfected. She was not permitted to return to her room, not even to retrieve any of her textbooks or parchment, which had vexed her a great deal, and was set up in an empty classroom with an uncomfortable cot and replacement pajamas.

Hermione calmed herself and set her wand down. Then she was reminded of the tap on the window that had woken her when it was repeated again more urgently. She crossed the room and threw the shutters open to find an owl waiting for her. She opened the window and the bird flew in to the room and perched gingerly on the edge of a desk. He offered his leg to Hermione and she untied the parchment with haste. Then, just a quickly as he had come, the bird glided back out the window and into the morning sky.

Unrolling the letter she read:

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_I must ask that you meet with me in my office this morning before breakfast. A half hour should do it._

_It's a beautiful morning, _

_Dumbledore_

Hermione glanced up at the clock on the wall and found that she had roughly fifteen minutes to get herself ready and down to Dumbledore's office. Her clothes weren't clean her hair was a mess, all of her belongings were back in her infected room. She cast a few perfume spells on herself that she had picked up from her years living with Parvati and Lavender and headed out the door in a hurry to be on time.

She arrived out of breath but with two minutes to spare and stepped onto the revolving staircase. As the office slid into view Hermione offered a smile at the image of Dumbledore behind his desk and then her smile fell as she spotted the other occupant of the room. Lounging smugly in a chair across from the headmaster was Draco Malfoy.

Hermione stopped short, "Oh, I'm sorry professor. Am I early? I didn't realize you had a prior engagement. I can wait outside." Then she turned around and headed for the exit wondering what Draco Malfoy had done this time to land himself in Dumbledore's office when her musings were cut short by the Headmaster's interjection.

"Miss Granger, that won't be necessary. Mr. Malfoy is here for our meeting as well. Please, have a seat."

She turned around slowly and after a moment of open confusion she followed Dumbledore's gesturing hand and took a seat next to Malfoy. She gave him a curious glance as she settled into the cushions. He had a sickening grin pasted across his face and Hermione had an instinctive feeling that she would not enjoy what Dumbledore had to say next.

"Miss Granger, as you are aware, Mr. Macmillan was diagnosed with the sickness yesterday afternoon. This grieves us all I assure you, but in these troubled times the faculty and I believe it is imperative that the school have a Head Boy." Hermione's eyes widened in realization "Therefore I would like to introduce Mr. Malfoy as your new partner."

Hermione was speechless, aghast. She quite literally could not make words form in her mouth. She stared at Dumbledore wide eyed not even daring to look at the smirk that was undoubtedly growing on Malfoy's face by the second.

"This information will be shared with the rest of the school this morning at breakfast-"

Suddenly Hermione found her voice, "HIM?!" she practically screamed in the Headmaster's face. Dumbledore looked slightly shocked by her outburst but his smile returned, expecting a reaction like this.

"I'm sorry," Hermione quickly apologized, embarrassed by her reaction, "But really, Professor, there must be someone, anyone, more qualified for the position than Malfoy!" She could feel Draco's indignant eyes on her.

"I'm right here, you know," Draco spoke up. Hermione ignored him.

"Miss Granger, I assure you this decision was not hastily reached. Mr. Malfoy has the grades, the leadership experience; he's been a Prefect for the last two years. He will fill the position honorably I am sure." He switched his twinkling gaze to Draco for a moment before returning to Hermione.

"While this is all perfectly true, Professor," Hermione said, "You must realize that most of the school thinks he's untrustworthy and a bully. No one will take him seriously, no one will go to him for help!" She stopped a moment to take a few deep breaths, then hesitantly added, "Don't you think a student like Harry Potter would lead the school better at a time like this?"

Dumbledore suddenly grew serious, "Miss Granger, you and I both know that Mr. Potter has far too much on his shoulders now to take up this burden as well. It's not something we can ask of him." He settled back into his chair, "And as for Mr. Malfoy, I am well aware of his reputation among the student body and I am also aware of his reputation within his house. Mr. Malfoy is quite looked up to by many students and I am hoping he will use this new position to speak for an overlooked population of our school."

"But, Professor-" Hermione tried to interject.

"Miss Granger, I do appreciate your concerns but I ask that you respect my decision and trust that I have my reasons."

Hermione composed herself, "Of course, I apologize."

"No need, my dear. But I would appreciate if you could offer your congratulations to Mr. Malfoy…to start your partnership off well, perhaps?"

With a tight smile Hermione turned to Malfoy for the first time. As she expected he was staring at her with the smuggest smirk she'd ever seen. She choked out a whisper of congratulations.

Malfoy cupped his hand to his ear and in mock confusion asked, "I'm sorry I couldn't quite hear you, what was that?"

Hermione glared at him, "Don't try me, Malfoy."

Draco grinned widely, "I can see you'll be a pleasure to work with."

"Likewise," she returned with sarcasm.

"You may head down to the Great Hall now, Mr. Malfoy. I would just like a few more words with Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, standing up to shake Malfoy's hand.

Draco hopped up gracefully and took Dumbledore's hand. "Certainly, and may I thank you once again for the opportunity."

Dumbledore nodded and Draco began to walk away. But before he took a step he turned around with a finger raised, "Oh one more thing, before I go. I was wondering if it would be at all possible to make an alteration to my title."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in amusement, "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking, doesn't Head Boy sound slightly juvenile. In such a trying time wouldn't you think that changing my title to Head Man would instill greater confidence in the students?" Hermione dropped her head into her hand. "After all who wants to be led through plague and certain death by a boy?"

Dumbledore chuckled lightly, "I'll bring it up to the faculty. But I wouldn't hold my breath, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco grinned, snuck a look at Hermione and left the office. "Charming boy," Dumbledore said, settling into his chair and laughing to himself.

"Hardly," Hermione muttered under her breath.

Dumbledore took a moment to consider her. "Miss Granger, I understand that you are not happy about this. I realize the relationship you and Draco Malfoy have shared over the years. But I also know that you are a mature and responsible leader and I do hope that you will not let your personal conflictions get in the way of your responsibilities."

Hermione sat up straighter and swallowed her displeasure, "Of course not, professor. It's only, I can't imagine it will be at all easy to work with Malfoy. He loves being completely impossible and infuriating._ I_ will do my best but I can not promise you that all will go smoothly."

Dumbledore seemed satisfied with this answer for the time being but Hermione was not finished.

"There's one thing I must ask you, professor, something I can't in good conscious not bring up."

She paused and Dumbledore nodded for her to continue. "It's just that… well you must be aware of Malfoy's family's affiliation with the Dark Lord."

"I am aware," Dumbledore said delicately.

"And aren't you concerned that giving him this amount of power and authority in the school might be dangerous?"

The Headmaster touched his fingertips together in contemplation. "The thought has crossed my mind, I assure you. However as of now, Draco has not taken the oath nor has he received the Dark Mark. We cannot punish Mr. Malfoy for who his parents are. I am sure you understand how that sort of prejudice can be damaging."

She looked down at her hands. Malfoy punished her daily because _her_ parents were muggles, perhaps it was unfair for her to judge him for his. "Yes," she spoke, "I understand prejudice… Draco Malfoy has taught me all about it."

Dumbledore nodded. "He has done many hurtful things to you and your friends in the past," he offered with honesty, "but I don't think we should write him off just yet." He looked deeply into her eyes. "Draco Malfoy may surprise us all in the end."

Hermione looked away in disbelief. How could Dumbledore hold such unjustified faith in him? "I look forward to the day," she said with a tight smile. "Is there anything else you needed to speak to me about?"

Dumbledore shook his head and the twinkle returned to his eye. "No, Miss Granger, you may join your friends at breakfast. I believe hotcakes are on the table this morning!"

Hermione got up to leave, her fake smile falling as soon as she was turned away from the headmaster.

"Oh Miss Granger," Dumbledore called after her. She turned her head in his direction, "Your room should be ready for you to return to after breakfast."

"Thank you, professor," She returned softly before descending the stairs out of the office.

SSS

The reaction at breakfast to Draco's promotion was in a word, chaotic. The Gryffindors got on their feet shouting obscenities, the Ravenclaws did much the same, a few Hufflepuffs burst into tears, and the Slytherins hopped up onto the tables and cheered loudly, sending bright sparks from the tips of their wands. It was the loudest Hermione had ever heard the great hall. She sat still and quiet among the riot, the anger and shock had subsided and she was now numb to the unfortunate circumstances. In her mind she repeated one thing: Dumbledore has a reason. What that reason was she was far from seeing but the idea that there was in fact one was the only thing keeping her from hexing the smirk off Draco's face from across the room. She turned her eye from him and stared off at the angry students. There was only one figure among them sitting as still and unaffected as she, Paul Brennon. Hermione supposed that house rivalries were lost on the new student. He probably didn't even know who Draco Malfoy was or what he represented. His eyes found hers after a moment and he sent her an amused smile and a shrug. She felt the corners of her mouth go up of her own accord and suddenly she didn't feel angry at all.  
Her attention was drawn away from the handsome face of Paul however, by Ron's hysterical voice in her ear. The rest of breakfast was spent with he and Harry shouting their disbelief over top of her and she trying to be the voice of reason, although on this particular subject she offered little calm.

SSS

After the following afternoon of nothing but conversation concerning Malfoy as Head Boy, Hermione wanted nothing more than to return to her freshly fumigated dormitory and settle into a nice long book. However upon entering through the portrait of King Lyon the Coward Hermione found a most unexpected and completely repulsive surprise: Pansy Parkinson half naked and straddling Malfoy on the common room couch. Hermione let out a gasp of surprise and turned away with a blush.

"Malfoy! What are you-" She searched her mind for the right words, "You have a room you know!"

Out of the corner of her eye Hermione could see him looking at her from behind Pansy's heaving bosom. He was out of breath, "Sorry didn't make it that far."

Hermione was aghast, "Didn't make it that far?! This is a _common_ room you know! You can't just do whatever you please in here!"

Draco chuckled and stopped Pansy's hands as they traveled down to his belt. "Calm down, Granger, don't get your panties in a twist. We're only celebrating my ascension to power."

Hermione let out huff of disbelief, "unbelievable," she muttered, "Well in the future could you please celebrate somewhere where I don't have to see Parkinson's saggy chest?"

Draco let slip an unchecked laugh and Pansy turned round to glare at Hermione who was still keeping her gaze firmly on the wall.

"My chest is NOT saggy!" she spat, "Mudblood cunt." Draco seemed more amused by the second. "Come on, Drakey, don't mind her." And her hands went again to his belt.

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh and moved around them and to her door with her hand up in front of her face all the while.

SSS

Later that night Draco excused Pansy from his room. He had not been in the mood to hear her snoring that night and besides, he had really only invited Pansy over to annoy tight-ass Granger. He laughed as he remembered her face, or as much as he could see of it around Pansy's bulk.

As he crossed the common room to his own he couldn't help but stop in front of her door. He took a moment to meditate on what could be happening behind the heavy wood. She was studying he presumed. He imagined her curled up on her bed surrounded by stacks of books and rolls of parchment, buried in her beloved tomes, a drop of ink carelessly smudged across her cheek in the rush of knowledge. He found himself smiling at the visual and decided he had thought about Hermione Granger enough for one day, too much really.

He sauntered into his room and closed it tight behind him. On his desk a letter was waiting from him, a letter from his father that had flown in at breakfast and he had put off reading until that moment. He opened it carefully and took a moment to lift the spell revealing its contents (mail was still being intercepted by the ministry, although the chaos that came with the plague had lightened their efforts.)

_My Son, _

_I was pleased to hear this morning of your appointment to Head Boy. Although your mother and I had expected this news earlier this fall I suppose it is better late than never. It has not yet been confirmed but I believe the Dark Lord has plans to exploit this new position of power and you may expect a great deal of responsibility and privilege in the near future. I am also told that the Dark Lord has finally decided to give you the honor of becoming one of his servants soon. _

_I am proud, Draco. _

_Sincerely, _

_Father_

_P.S. Your mother requests that you attach your Christmas list with your next letter. _

Draco read over that one line five times before setting it on his desk and vanishing it in a puff of white smoke, "I am proud, Draco." His fathers pride was not something he had come across often since he began school with Harry Potter. Being second to the boy wonder in everything since first year had certainly not escaped his father's notice and Draco's merit was continually put up against Potter's accomplishments. Nothing that Draco achieved mattered for anything if Potter had done it better. But Head Boy, that was something Draco had beaten him to, something Potter could not out do him in. There was no higher position in the school besides that of faculty, although Draco wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to give Potter the title of Assistant Headmaster or some bullshit like that. "I am proud, Draco." He thought the line over again and smiled to himself. Pulling off his shirt, he laid himself down atop his new four-poster bed and allowed himself to sink into the silk comforter. "I am proud, Draco." He was reminded of a distant memory he had saved at the back of his mind. Before Harry Potter, before the Dark Lord had returned to power, back when his father had first taught him to fly at the Manor. He was ten and had just won a race between his father and himself around the house. Looking back he was sure his father had let him win. He recalled the feeling of triumph as they touched down on land again, Draco laughing and cheering and his father with a full smile and his hand on Draco's shoulder saying, "I am proud, Draco, I am proud."

Draco pushed the memory back to that corner of his mind where he kept the past. He was smart enough to realize that though the words were the same they did not carry the same tone as they had in his childhood. Gaining his father's approval now was far more difficult than it had been back then, with a broomstick race around the Manor. Yes, he had written "I am proud, Draco," but at what cost? He was expected to take the Dark Mark, to sell his soul to the man who had risen from the dead all those years ago and who had torn his family apart in the process. Draco looked down at the pale glow of his unblemished forearm and imagined the Dark Mark imprinted there forever. He had been waiting for the honor since he knew what a Death Eater was, rather, since he knew his father was one of them. However now that the time drew near he found that the knowledge did not excite him as it used to. He had followed his parent's master all these years willingly, without question. He had obeyed and performed his duties honorably, waiting for the day when it would be enough, when his father would be proud of him once more.

However in the process he had also watched his father simper and grovel, bow at the Dark Lord's feet, allow himself to be kicked around like a dog (or in the case of his family, a house elf) and suddenly gaining his father's approval did not seem to carry the significant weight that it used to.

He would do it though. He knew he would. Really he could see no other option before him and no reason to turn away from the opportunity. He would follow the path laid out for him and perhaps he could rejoice in Harry Potter's death in the process.

As Draco drifted off to sleep his mind again returned to his new position and the proximity of one of his oldest enemies just a room away. His imagination again painted the picture of Granger among her books, her hair in a messy bun and that smudge of ink still going unnoticed upon her cheek.

SSS

A week went by and Hermione found living with Malfoy no easier than she expected. In fact he seemed to find new ways of irritating her daily. He was constantly parading Hogwart's loosest girls about the common room, forcing her to stay out of his way in fear of seeing what she wished not to see. He overcrowded the bookshelves with his own collection of texts, throwing hers aside on the floor to make room for bindings she never saw him crack. He was constantly skipping his patrolling duties at night to go gallivanting about the castle with his band of Slytherin scum. She was slowing losing her mind and began spending as much time away from the Head common room as possible. Tutoring Paul had become her best distraction. He truly was horrible at the simplest spells, but he proved to be a fast learner and with her help was quickly catching up. She was surprised his parents hadn't provided him with better training while they were in Africa. Being respected healers Hermione would have assumed that they would be more attentive to their son's education. However, Hermione secretly thanked them for their oversight, for it had led to their intimate tutoring sessions, an activity that was quickly becoming the best part of Hermione's day.

As wonderful as her moments with Paul were, they did not help to soften the rage Hermione felt in the presence of Malfoy. She woke up one particularly sunny morning with thoughts of Paul in her head. She hummed as she reflected on the dream she had just awoken from. She and Paul walking happily through the castle hand in hand, not a sign of Draco Malfoy in sight. Hermione left her room determined that she would not allow Malfoy to get under her skin that day, she would be impervious to his antics. However as she crossed the common room she spotted something that sent her reeling. Lying on the floor was a pair of very red and very lacey panties, no doubt from Malfoy's most recent conquest. Hermione felt it, this was the straw that broke the camels back, and she could feel herself snap. She wasn't sure how she made it to the Great Hall, but suddenly Hermione found herself throwing the repulsive undergarment into Draco Malfoy's bowl of porridge for the whole school to see.

"What the fuck, Granger? That's disgusting!" Malfoy exclaimed as he leaned away from his bowl. "I know you haven't been with a man in a long time but let me give you a hint, throwing your knickers into someone's breakfast is not the way to get laid."

Hermione stood with her hands on her hips, fuming. "You know they're not mine, Malfoy! They undoubtedly belong to whatever slut you brought through our common room last night."

Draco smirked along with his cronies.

"Listen, Malfoy, this stops now! The next time you mount one of your cows where I can see you, I swear I'll hex her."

"I'd like to see you try!" Pansy exclaimed, seeming to take the offense personally. Perhaps she was on his schedule for the night.

Hermione ignored her, "Either you keep your personal life in your own room or you go without."

Draco's smirk grew wider at her threat and she narrowed her eyes. "Don't doubt that I can make that happen." Draco's smile dropped, memories of _Excuro Pubertas_ returning to him.

Hermione heard some of the Slytherins "oooh" and laugh as she stomped away toward the Gryffindor table. It was only then that she heard the deafening silence in the hall and realized the entire hall had witnessed her performance. As chatter resumed she stole a glance at the professor's table and her cheeks grew hot as her eyes met Dumbledore's disappointed stare. She knew the headmaster had hopped she and Malfoy would get along and she had done her best to make it appear so, however this one outburst had undone everything. She suddenly felt ashamed. No matter what was happening between her and Malfoy, it was wrong of her to share it with the entire school, it was bad for morale. She sat down quietly at her place with Ron and Harry and tried her best to wave off their questions.

SSS

That night Hermione was tutoring Paul. It had been a quite session, Hermione could tell Paul was struggling to bring up a certain subject and she was fairly certain it involved herself and a blond haired Slytherin. After an hour he finally brought it up.

"So I take it things aren't going well with the Head Boy?" He said looking up from his Potions book.

She bit her lip, "It was nothing," she said, tucking some hair behind her ear. She was still embarrassed about the whole scene and Paul was the last person she had wanted to talk to about it.

He watched her with soft eyes as she scratched something down on her parchment. He wasn't going to pry, and she thanked him for it, but after a minute of uncomfortable silence she decided to talk.

"He just…we've never gotten along. He's absolutely insufferable. Do you know him at all?"

Paul shook his head, "Not at all, but from what I've seen of him in the halls I can understand your frustration."

"There are few people who find him at all tolerable," Hermione agreed, "but I'm the only one who's forced to live with him." She fiddled with her quill, "Dumbledore seems to have some sort of faith in him though… he seems to think he has promise or something. Perhaps he's right, maybe he's not a completely horrible guy but living with him is completely unbearable!" she let out.

Paul considered her outburst and chuckled, "Did you expect anything else?" His smile had a way of calming Hermione.

She smiled, "No, I suppose I didn't expect living with him to be easy, but it's almost like he does things intentionally to get under my skin. I think he's trying to make me jump off the astronomy tower."

"Well we wouldn't want that," Paul said in a low voice. Hermione noticed that his arm had moved to rest on the back of her chair. Her heart began to race. "I wouldn't want that," he corrected. She smiled.

For a moment Paul just stared at her and Hermione understood that they wouldn't be talking about Malfoy anymore.

"Hermione," he said softly, "I want you to know how much I've enjoyed your friendship these past couple weeks. Coming to a new school, especially during a time like this… people aren't exactly in the best mindset to make new friends. Your company has made it a lot easier." Her heart was melting.

She wanted to say something, to tell Paul he was important to her too, but her tongue had become lost somewhere in her throat.

"Anyways, I'd love to spend more time with you, aside from these tutoring sessions where I'm constantly fumbling around and making a fool of myself," He grinned, "Maybe I can show some things I'm actually good at." The way he said this made Hermione blush. "Perhaps I could even meet some of your friends?" He looked hopeful and Hermione suddenly realized how rude she had been. Of course Paul should meet her friends. She was astounded she hadn't thought of it earlier. Paul was still settling into the school and was probably still looking to make acquaintances. Hermione suddenly realized all the times she had seen him sitting alone in the Great Hall was probably for lack of companions not the cool confidence she perceived. She was angry with herself for not seeing it earlier. It was obvious that Paul would fit in wonderfully with her friends. Besides, Hermione was anxious to get Harry and Ron's approval of Paul, and as she nodded enthusiastically she could see that Paul was just as anxious to receive it.

After all being close to Harry Potter is a highly strategic development for an agent of the Dark Lord.

SSS

**A/N: Sorry this took so long to post. The combination of life, school and writers block doesn't make writing fanfiction easy or top of the priority list. Hopefully the next chapter won't be so painful. **

**Please review! **


	7. All Secrets Sleep in Winter's Clothes

**An Ironic Twist of Fate**

**WaithingforAda**

**Chapter Seven: All Secrets Sleep in Winter's Clothes. **

SSS

The first snowflake of December fell on the third day of the month. Pure white and crystalline it fell gently through the sky, dipping and diving through clouds to the tune of a graceful symphony only to land in disappointment on the cold surface of the Black Lake and to be swallowed up by its deep murkiness.

Few Hogwarts students could be found rejoicing in the new fallen snow. For most it served as the beginning to the cold darkness winter had yet to bring and a cruel reminder of happier times. No longer could the students ignore the presence of the sickness in the halls or the empty chairs in their classrooms. The hospital wing had reached full capacity and it was horribly evident that the plague was consuming Hogwarts. Every morning students anticipated the announcement of a new friend, sibling or professor falling ill.

The Daily Prophet served the school as a reminder that as bad as things were in Hogwarts, they were worse outside its walls. Full of only depressing articles, Hermione Granger became one of only a handful of students who continued their subscription.

A letter from home had even become a nerve wracking affair. Mail was no longer greeted with smiles but with tears. Even the owls seemed reluctant to bear the bad news. As they flew in from the rafters they appeared an army of heat seeking missiles as students pleaded for them to find someone else.

With these new worries, breakfast had become every student's least favorite time of day. With the exception of the Slytherin table that is. While the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor's numbers fell, the Slytherin table looked happier and healthier than ever. This particular detail was not lost on Harry Potter and as time wore on his theory grew stronger; somehow Voldemort was behind this plague, but how to stop him?

He glared across the hall at the arrogant smirk of Draco Malfoy. He was so calm, so smug and certain. He smiled and laughed without a care in the world. Harry watched him intently, wishing to know his secret. Surely he was an ambassador of the Dark Lord, keeping the purebloods safe. Harry seethed as he remembered Draco's promotion to Head Boy, a callous joke on Dumbledore's part. Yet the Headmaster was not daft, Harry was sure Dumbledore had a plan for Draco Malfoy, even if he would not reveal it. Dumbledore also had suspicions of the Dark Lords involvement in the outburst of the plague, so Harry was astonished that he would appoint a death eater in training as the head of the school.

Harry was itching to do something. The endless routine of classes, meals and pleasant conversation were all a waste of time. It made him anxious, knowing Voldemort was out there and he was doing nothing to stop him. As the days passed he could feel it, the tugging of time pulling him from Hogwarts. Soon he would need to leave. He had not decided whether to tell Hermione and Ron. Certainly they would try to follow. He would have to persuade them to stay, to keep them safe. He could slip out in the middle of the night. Would they forgive him? Would they understand? He was pulled from his thoughts as Dumbledore stood to make an announcement, death had finally reached Hogwarts.

SSS

That morning, as the snow began to cover the grounds, a black mass flooded through the castle doors. A procession of mourners followed the body of Jeffery Wellington to his final resting place. His mother, a poor woman could not afford to have him buried with the rising price of funeral expenses and had asked Dumbledore to have him buried on Hogwart's grounds. She stood now with her daughter, a 5th year Hufflepuff as they said their prayers for the young boy. Hermione Granger stood with the rest of the student body as the casket was closed one final time and the young boy was lowered into the ground. She wasn't sure when she had begun to cry but she could now feel the tears she had shed begin to freeze on her face. Jeffery had been too young, too innocent to die. He did not deserve this, no one did. Although he had been the first to die of the illness at Hogwarts, he would not be the last. Molly Radford's parents had already moved her to Saint Mungo's so that they could be with their daughter in her final days. However the wealth of the Radford family had not been given to most and many families were helplessly forced to leave their dieing children at Hogwarts as Saint Mungo's became entirely overrun. The parents of healthy students too were conflicted. To leave their children at Hogwarts may guarantee a greater amount of safety but to keep them there may also mean missing out on final moments together. Many parents chose the safety of their students but even Hermione's own parents had hinted at the idea of her leaving. She of course refused. Although she loved her parents deeply, she was Head Girl and her place was at Hogwarts.

As the funeral drew to a close, Dumbledore began to speak to the student body, his voice was soothing, his words filled with warmth, but they fell flat on Hermione's ears. A boy lay before her dead, and many other children were also dieing across Great Britain. She could not see Dumbledore's light, she could not see his silver lining, and she began to doubt that love could indeed heal all. Love would not cure the sick, but diligent research would and that was exactly what Hermione would do until she found the answer.

Just as Dumbledore began to end his speech, Hermione noticed a figure to his left begin to strangely sway. It was Bruce Frawley the new healer they had brought in from Saint Mungo's. His face was white and pained. Hermione could see the veins in his forehead bulge as he struggled to stand. Madame Pomfrey turned to him in alarm and tried to hold him up as he fell to his knees and then to the ground. The crowd moved close to see what had happened and everyone began to speak at once. Then the professors cleared the way as Dumbledore levitated him out of the crowd. The sickness had claimed its newest victim.

SSS

Ten minutes later Hermione returned to the Head's common room, her face still cold with tears. There she found Malfoy, sitting comfortably before a roaring fire with a book in his hand. He looked up as she entered and smirk arranged itself on his face.

"You look a mess," He stated, putting his book in his lap.

She groaned, wiping the tears from her face. She was too exhausted to deal with Malfoy. "I was paying my respects. I can't say I was surprised by _your_ absence."

"I didn't see a reason for my presence." He said simply.

Hermione rolled her eyes which irritated Malfoy greatly. "I had hoped that at least for appearances sake you would show up. You are the Head Boy after all." she rubbed her eyes as she looked at her door. She needed to end this conversation soon.

"While this is true," he agreed, looking her square in the eye. "he was still a mudblood, afterall."

A fire raced through Hermione as soon as the word left his lips. How dare he?! The boy had not been in the ground more than a few minutes and he dared to call him mudblood! Hermione considered a million different hexes to cast on Malfoy but she was too angry to choose one and instead grabbed a book from the coffee table and hurdled it at his body. He caught it skillfully and stood up with an amused smile on his face, his own book falling from his lap and to the floor.

"He was a child!" she screamed at him. "A child! Are you so cold and conceited, so _evil_, that that means nothing to you?!" Tears were forming in her eyes again and she willed them not to fall in front of him. "He did nothing wrong! He was not part of your war, he had nothing to do with any of it!" She could feel herself shaking, could feel herself unraveling and becoming completely exposed in front of him.

Malfoy looked down at her in shock. That word, mudblood, had not received this sort of reaction from her since the first time he had used it on her all those years ago. He used it as an after thought now, it had almost become a nickname. He stood before her helplessly as he watched his words dismantle her. Still he could feel more words leaving his mouth and he begged himself to shut up for once in his life.

"His fate was decided with his birth." It came out as if he had read it straight from a text book, without conviction or thought and he regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

He certainly hadn't expected the slap that followed them. He stood astounded, not angry or vengeful, as the small girl looked at him with the deepest hatred he had ever seen.

She seethed, "Even you can't believe that." He didn't.

Her tears had begun to burst forth and Malfoy could feel nothing but a longing to take it all back and a strange urge to take Granger in his arms until she stopped shaking. Without thinking he took a step forward, anything to make the tears stop, but she must have interpreted his movement as violent advance. She darted around him and into her room. The last thing he heard was her silencing spell; neither of them wanted him to hear her tears.

SSS

That night, as Hogwarts drifted off to sleep, Hermione crept through the shadows towards the hospital wing. She was about to do something completely forbidden and horribly dangerous. All day she had fought with her conscious; she had promised Harry and Ron she wouldn't go back to the hospital wing but after Jeffery's funeral that morning she felt she needed to do something. Her research was turning up no answers and unless she was able to properly observe the patients she was at loss of what to even look for. She needed to get closer than safety allowed and with the new patrols guarding the Hospital Wing corridor she would need a little help to navigate the castle. Earlier that day she had visited Harry and told a horrible lie. She explained to him that she needed to do some research in the restricted section after hours and asked to borrow the invisibility cloak. Of course he readily handed it over and Hermione decided what he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

She turned the corner to the infirmary and found Filch about 100 feet between her and the hospital wing doors. How to get around him and into the infirmary without him noticing? Even with her invisibility cloak the opening of a door would certainly alert him that something was going on. She waited in shadows for several minutes, watching him grow tired, praying that Peeves would arrive and afford some sort of distraction. Luckily for her, it was not long before someone else decided to try to breech the hospital wing's protection. Hermione and Filch both saw the bright wand light before the boy emerged. This was obviously a student unaccustomed to sneaking around the castle. As he rounded the corner and his wand illuminated Filch. He jumped back, startled, and began to turn away, hoping to go unnoticed. Unfortunately he was Filch's first catch of the night and he would not be escaping so easily.

"Hold it!" Filch grumbled advancing on the boy. The kid turned around and met Filch halfway.

Seeming to gather his courage he spoke in a determined tone, "You must let me pass."

Filch laughed, "I must do nothing. Healthy students are strictly forbidden from the hospital wing. You're also roaming the halls after hours, which means detention," and then with a cruel smile he added, "with me."

The boy was not discouraged, "Please, sir. My girlfriend, she's in there, I have to see her." The boy looked incredibly shaken up and Hermione's heart went out to him. To throw himself intentionally into harms way only to steal a few moments with his girlfriend was a very brave and unfortunately foolish thing to do.

Filch was not moved, "Absolutely not. Return to your dormitory immediately before I extend your detention another month."

The boys eyes were growing wet. He would not be defeated so easily. "I can't. I have to... I have to see her again. She... I.. we had a fight, I have to apologize, I can't leave her in there alone!" He became angry and, with a final determined burst of energy, tried to dart around Filch. He caught his arm and the boy began to cry in desperation, "No! No, please! I only need to see her. Just let me see her face again...please."

Filch struggled against him, "Boy, you wouldn't want to see her, not like this."

Hermione watched on in sadness as the struggle continued until the boy had finally lost strength and Filch was able to escort him down the hall and around the corner.

Seeing her opportunity, she hurried to the door and opened it a crack. Thankfully Madame Pomfrey was not there to see her this time. As soon as she slid through and closed the door behind her, the silencing spell protecting the room lifted from her ears and she was assaulted with the horrifying sound of tortured screams. Many of the patients were in troubled sleep or a drugged state of consciousness. Some simply laid in their beds, eyes wide open, moaning and crying. One girl sat straight up and screamed endlessly at the wall before her. It was the most horrible sight Hermione had ever seen. So much pain, so much suffering. The air was thick with sweat and smelled of urine and vomit. Madame Pomfrey was in over her head, that was certain. How she worked in the terrifying environment day after day was lost on Hermione.

She raised her handkerchief to her mouth and wondered how long she could hold her breath. She moved swiftly into the room looking for Mr. Frawley. He was the newest patient and therefore she could best observe the earliest symptoms through him. She found him in a state of half consciousness. He was obviously under the influence of a pain relieving potion. His head rocked side to side and his eyes were rolled back in his head. She noted slight tremors throughout his body and extremely pale skin. He was not bleeding as Hermione had witnessed with Jeffery, but he seemed to be gasping for breath every thirty seconds or so. Hermione wrote it down. She also made note of his dilated pupils and the blueness of his fingertips. However aside from these symptoms and the obvious pain Hermione could see nothing else worth investigating.

She decided to take a quick look at a patient who was further along, Ernie. He was like she had never seen him. Pale as a sheet, losing hair and covered in deep marks where he had evidently tried to claw himself. Hermione noticed that his fingernails had recently been filed down as a result. Hermione could hear her voice speaking to him, telling him to be brave, that she would save him and end his torment. The words seemed to fall uselessly on his ears, but Hermione believed that somewhere beneath his pain he could hear her. She had never seen anything so devastating.

The smell and the sound began to become too much for Hermione and she decided to leave. Walking past the cots she stopped a moment and looked down on professor Trelawney. At first she appeared to be lying very still in her bed but as Hermione observed her for a moment she noticed that she was in fact shaking, shaking so violently that her tremors were almost too quick to be seen. Hermione walked over to the side of the cot and took a closer look. Indeed the professor almost seemed to be vibrating, she could even hear the feet of the bed knocking ever so slightly against the stone floor. Bzzz. She leaned in closer. Behind closed eyelids Trelawney's eyes were alive, flickering back and forth left to right. Bzzz. A gloved hand emerged from the cloak and reached out to touch Trelawney's neck. With her body in such a state Hermione could only imagine how fast her pulse was racing. The cool gloved fingers made contact with wet skin and the body stopped shaking, the bed stopped buzzing and Trelawney's eyes flew open to stare right into Hermione's.

She moved to retract her hand but Trelawney caught it in her own surprisingly strong grip. Hermione's eyes grew wide and she tried to pull away without success. The professor's eyes were not right. They were clouded over, the irises a light gray fading into the whites. They looked to be the eyes of a blind woman and yet Hermione felt their gaze behind the cloak and through her body to her very soul.

Trelawney took a strangled breath and then began to speak in a voice unlike her own. "Evil grows strong and good souls be buried," she sucked in a raged breath, "the blood of the weak split for apothecaries." Her voice grew louder, "What was done before can be done again. The death of a race in the hand of one man." Hermione watched as her breathing grew labored and the pain returned to her face. Her eyes began to lose their white fog and they darted about the room in confusion. The grip on Hermione's arm lost its strength and Hermione took the hand in her gloved one to comfort the disoriented professor. When the professor came to, what was left was unlike the person who had been before Hermione only a moment ago. This woman was crumpled, defeated, afraid. She looked at the hand grasping her own and squinted to figure out what body it was attached to. Hermione remembered her cloak then and pushed back the hood to reveal her face.

The professor still couldn't make her out without her glasses. "Please," her hoarse voice pleaded, as her body shook violently, "Please, kill me... Kill me. Please," she fought through a few labored breaths, "have mercy, please." The professor rocked back and forth with the pain.

Hermione did not respond to her plea, could not respond to it. She stood quietly with frightened eyes, her strong, healthy hand holding tightly to Trelawney's weak one. She was begging for death. The pain must be unbearable. Watching her struggle and seeing the torture the professor was being subjected to Hermione almost considered it, putting her out of her misery. She wished she could bring herself to end it for the professor, to put her at rest. But no, taking another human life was beyond her.

Trelawney grew anxious from the silence and her broken face turned to one of hateful anger, "KILL ME!" she screamed.

Her other hand reached up to grab at Hermione. She freed her arm and backed away in fear, "I'm sorry, I can't," Hermione said sadly.

Trelawney began to sob and her chest heaved with each strangled intake of air, "please," she cried, "please." She continued on in unintelligible cries as Hermione reached the door. The night had been much worse than she had anticipated and she struggled to keep herself together as she slipped past Filch.

Once she had reached a safe distance, Hermione allowed herself the support of a wall. She wrapped her arms about herself and shook. She didn't cry, she had spent all her tears that morning, she only shook with devastation for those poor suffering souls. She shook with fear for the future. None of them were safe for long. They would all feel that pain, that desire for death. Hermione had faced death eaters, trolls and three headed dogs, but nothing she had seen in her torrid life had frightened her more than what she had seen in that room. Pulling herself together she quickly cast several sanitizing spells on herself to kill any germs she may have contracted from contact with Trelawney. She prepared herself to continue to her dormitory when she heard the footsteps of another late night wanderer. She stayed hidden in a shadow. Even with the invisibility cloak it was best to be careful.

The moonlight streaming in through the windows exposed him as he drew near, Draco Malfoy, out after hours again. However he was without his cronies this time and appeared to have been out in the snow. In his hand he carried his broomstick. His hair was wind blown and sparking with flakes of snow. His nose and cheeks were red and cold, his cloak was stiff with ice. He walked without reserve or fear of being caught, he appeared too irritated and angry to care. Hermione observed his enraged face and wondered what could have happened to elicit such an emotional reaction from Malfoy. It was far too late and cold for his late night fly to be merely practice.

As he passed Hermione could see just how frozen he was and she could hear the drip drip of his defrosting cloak on the stone floor. He must have been out there for quite some time and yet the cold didn't seem to bother him. Did he have more troubling things on his mind? _Draco Malfoy possesses complex human emotion_, Hermione thought, _who would've thought?_

When he had rounded the corner Hermione moved softly in his path. As she followed him her mind began to wander back to Trelawney's words. She had been as Hermione had never seen the professor before. Usually Hermione could laugh at her clumsy befuddlement, but the woman who had spoken to Hermione was not to be laughed at. She was strong and frightening. She seemed a woman possessed. Hermione remembered Harry's description of Trelawney when she had given him the prophecy. He had described what Hermione had just witnessed but she was not so foolish as to believe that the dying professor had made her a prophecy, was she? She couldn't take her words seriously, could she? As she considered the insanity of the idea, Hermione realized the woman's message was the only new information she had to work with, factual or not. She repeated the lines in her head as she followed Malfoy through the portrait hole. Perhaps now was the time to put aside her skepticism. After all, Desperation has made people do crazier things.

SSS

The next evening Hermione had planned for Paul to finally meet Harry and Ron. It was bizarre, sitting in Gryffindor tower, laughing before a warm fire. It was as if the horror she had seen in the hospital wing was a dream. When she listened to the sound of Paul's voice she could almost forget that they were still suffering in there, could almost silence the sound of their screams in her ears. She was having a good time with her friends, yet she was itching to get to the library. Trelawney's words were still nagging at her. _the blood of the weak spilt for apothecaries. _Who was she referring to? Muggles perhaps? They were weak in Voldemort's eyes but Hermione did not think they were so. However the prophecy said that blood was being spilt for a potion. Perhaps Voldemort was sacrificing muggles for the potion or spell that started the plague. Or perhaps blood was being spilt for protection. Were his followers offering their blood to tie them to an antidote? She would have to look more deeply into dark healing potions to understand just how such a procedure would work, if it was even possible. Although Hermione was not sure that she could justify the death eaters as being the weak ones in the situation. Morally weak, yes, but as time wore on they were getting stronger, not weaker. One thing that Hermione was certain of was that Voldemort was tied to the plague. She had finally conceded to Harry's theory even though she deemed it insane at first. She was a woman of logic and it simply wasn't logical that the entire Slytherin house could escape infection. They were being protected somehow.

Hermione was pulled from her thoughts as Paul's arm brushed against hers. He was smiling. She was glad she had been able to introduce him to some new friends. They seemed to be getting along famously. Paul was a natural conversationalist and Harry and Ron were easy enough to engage. Any mention of Quidditch and they were off on an hour long tangent. However as Hermione watched them describe last years World Cup, with sweeping hand gestures and quills for props, she noticed Harry's hand meet his scar every few minutes. Was he experiencing Voldemort's feelings again? Was something happening? Hermione could only assume that whatever was going on, it wasn't too urgent. Harry retained his smile and remained engrossed in the conversation. If something important had happened he would say something, right? Or perhaps he was keeping it quiet around Paul, he hardly knew him after all.

As the night drew on Hermione grew too anxious to stay and announced that she needed to go back to her room and get some homework done. Paul looked reluctant to leave but stood with her anyway. "It's about time I take off as well." He reached over to shake Ron and Harry's hands. The wince that Harry responded with did not go unnoticed by Paul and he hoped his mask had not fallen to expose his alarm. He grinned again and followed Hermione out.

"Did you have a good time?" Hermione asked.

"Very much so." He responded, "Your friends are humorous. And it's nice to talk about Quidditch again."

Hermione laughed, "Well whenever you feel so inclined, Harry and Ron will be thrilled to share their incites."

Paul nodded, "I was excited to hear that they were both on the Gryffindor team. I would love to see them play sometime." He looked down and noticed the distance in her eyes, "I gather Quidditch isn't your topic of choice however."

She laughed, "Was it that obvious?"

"You seemed distant all night." He said with concern, "Is something on your mind."

Hermione blushed at his observation. She didn't think he would notice her wandering thoughts while he was so engaged in Quidditch talk, but she secretly loved that he had.

"It's nothing really, just some work I need to get done," she reassured him.

"Is this homework for next week or the one after that?" he said laughing, knowing that she had a tendency to do her assignments before they were even assigned.

She shook her head and smiled, "No, this is more of extracurricular research." She wondered why she had told him that.

"Oh? What are you researching exactly?" He asked with evident curiosity.

She hesitated and wondered how much she should say. Did she really know Paul well enough to expose her secret investigation? She looked up at his earnest eyes and decided that she did. "I've been doing research on the plague, trying to find out how it originated and if there's hope for cure."

He remained silent for a moment and Hermione noticed that he was not smiling anymore. "Have you discovered anything?" He asked carefully.

"No," she said, "I only have the information they put in the newspapers to work with," she had decided she wasn't ready to share the prophecy with anyone yet, "It's not nearly enough... Do you think I'm ridiculous for trying?"

He seemed to regain his cheery manner for her sake and put an arm around her, "No, absolutely not. The world needs all its brightest witches and wizards behind this to get an answer." She could feel herself blushing behind the compliment and the close contact.

They had reached the portrait to the Head commons but as Paul's arm slipped from around her and he said, "I suppose this is where I leave you," Hermione suddenly didn't feel like doing research anymore. She didn't want him to leave.

"Wait."

Perhaps he saw the longing in her eyes because he moved closer and Hermione could feel the hot friction in the air between their bodies. "I have to confess something to you," He said to her in a low voice. "As much fun as I had with Harry and Ron, I've been longing to be alone with you all night." Hermione had to remind herself to breath as he hesitated, "so that I could do this," then his hand reached up to brush her hair behind her ear and settled at the back of her neck to draw her closer. Her eyes closed as his lips touched hers and she was glad his arm wrapped around her waist for it suddenly became difficult to stand. Her body reacted immediately and her hands moved up the muscles of his chest as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. This kiss was nothing like she had experienced with Victor Krum. Then she had waited for it to end, now, with Paul, she never wanted to stop. She had never felt that sort of pleasure that a pair of lips can give, or the surprising stroke of a tongue against hers. She felt passionate, alive, beautiful and she loved that he could make her feel these things with a simple kiss. As Hermione became lost in desire she forgot that she was in the middle of a corridor, kissing a boy where anyone could see. But this was not the case with Draco Malfoy who had rounded the corner moments before and now stood half hidden behind the wall.

He watched as Paul leaned down to kiss her and when she readily accepted his advances he felt something almost too intense to keep quiet. Was it disgust? Anger? He was thrown off guard by the violent reaction and stood seething, watching the torrid scene progress. His nails dug into his palm as his fists tightened. Why did this bother him? He should be rejoicing that the Dark Lord's plan was working, that Paul was becoming close to Granger and the Golden Trio. But Draco found no pleasure in the scene before him, only inexplicable rage. He watched as they parted and Paul whispered something into her ear. He scowled at the scene. Paul was a terrific actor, he would give him that. But why could Draco not appreciate it. He should be laughing at Granger's stupidity, excited to see the inevitable betrayal. But no, he was feeling something akin to protection. He had never felt the need to protect the irritating bookworm before, why now? Was it that he didn't find her irritating at all? That he had become accustomed to being around her? That he actually liked it? Did that mean that they were no longer enemies?

Draco hid from sight as Paul left Hermione with a final kiss and began to walk down the hall towards him. Draco considered jumping out as he passed, tackling Paul to the ground and beating the smug look off his face, but he was smarter than that and remained hidden in the shadows.

He waited several moments in the empty corridor, composing himself. He would not say anything. He _could_ not say anything. He could not afford to expose himself at this time, not now when the world was going to shit and his allegiance to the Dark Lord was his only protection from a horrible death. It would be more than foolish, it would be suicidal to let these feelings surface. Hermione Granger's safety was not worth his own. He nodded with conviction. He had never had a problem ignoring his emotions before, it would not be a problem now.

However as he entered the common room he was greeted with the sight of Hermione standing before the fireplace, a distant, happy look in her eyes and two fingers resting gently on her lips.

Draco said it before he meant to, "Get that sickening look off your face, Granger."

She turned around, startled and seemed embarrassed that he had caught her like that. He reprimanded himself for saying anything and walked past her toward his door. She called out before he reached it, "I don't care what you think, Malfoy. You can say anything to me today and I don't care. I'm too happy to be concerned with you." He stiffened in front of his door and checked the outburst that was on the tip of her tongue. Let her figure it out on her own. He wouldn't be concerned with the affairs of a muggleborn. Then he slammed the door behind him and endured a night of troubled sleep.

SSS

**Author's Note: That's all for now. Finally got some action in this chapter, even if it wasn't between Draco and Hermione. Plenty of that will come later. I hope you all enjoyed the silly prophecy, they aren't easy things to write! Let me know what you think about the direction and what you'd like to see. **

**Thanks for reading and PLEASE REVIEW! **

**(Reviews really do help me update faster! There's something about knowing that someone's actually reading your work that makes it a priority.) **


	8. Try to Be Speechless for A Moment

**An Ironic Twist of Fate**

**by WaitingforAda**

**Chapter Eight: Try to Be Speechless for A Moment**

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

SSS

Blaise Zabini had been waiting in the empty classroom for almost half an hour before his companion joined him.

"Finally," he said upon Paul Brennan's entrance, "I watched my nails grow in the time it took you."

Paul was not bothered by his complaint, "I was delayed. It couldn't be avoided." He sat down coolly on top of the desk next to Blaise.

"How did it go with Potter last night?" Blaise asked eagerly.

Paul smirked, "It was easier than I imagined. One mention of Quidditch and those two buffoons took me as a brother." He decided to leave out the part where Harry flinched at his touch. There was no need to alarm Zabini before he was sure it was something to worry about.

Blaise sighed in relief, the Golden Trio were not the most trusting bunch and being accepted into their little group would be a huge step for the Dark Lord. They were right to presume that seducing Granger was their best hope for breaking through their barriers.

"And what about Granger?" Blaise asked.

Paul laughed, "The easiest part." He ran his hand through his hair smugly. "The bookish mudblood was so craved for attention I hardly had to try." He laughed to himself as he remembered her yearning for him to kiss her. Pathetic. "I simply had to let her teach me to brew a few potions and she was swooning. I think she gets off on knowing more than her company. After what you told me about her infatuation with Ron Weasley I figured she had a type and posing as an idiot seems to have done the trick."

Blaise smiled, "Good thing you didn't go with the red hair though," he joked.

Paul didn't find it amusing, "Don't be stupid, Zabini." Paul stood up to move toward the window.

Blaise dropped his smile and glared at his back. He watched him as he observed the light snow flurry outside. Blaise was still not a fan of Paul Brennan. No one had even heard of his name until last year and suddenly he was at the Dark Lords right hand (not that it could even be certain that Paul Brennan _was _his real name). He found his attitude suspicious and his singularity strange. He did not commune with the other students working for the Dark Lord. Perhaps this was to preserve his cover, however, Blaise suspected it stemmed from a pretentious feeling of superiority rather than discretion. After all, he was known to take several Slytherin girls to his bed on occasion. No, Blaise didn't trust him but he knew that Paul had a certain power over the Dark Lord and one word from him could have Blaise executed before the year was out.

"And did you get any information out of them," he asked in a colder tone.

Paul clasped his hands behind his back and continued to look out the window.

"Not from Pottor or Weasley, it's far too soon to push their trust. But Granger did let me in on her late night studies." He looked back at Blaise and smirked. Blaise wasn't sure if this was some sort of sexual innuendo and waited for him to continue, "She's trying to decode the cure."

He seemed to find it funny but Blaise did not see the humor. Hermione Granger might have dirty blood in her veins, but she was smart as they come. "Do you… do you think she has a chance?"

Paul scoffed, "Not likely. She has next to no information to work from. However, when I notified the Dark Lord... I was surprised by his concern. He seems to think precaution is in order."

Blaise frowned, "Do you mean…?"

Paul shook his head, "No, it hasn't come to _that_," and then he added, "yet. But I've been told to monitor the situation and remove any information from the library that could be helpful to her search. " He walked back over to Blaise and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry yourself Zabini, she'll be coughing up blood before we know it." Blaise smirked and wished for Paul to remove his hand.

Paul was not done gloating however, "I just hope I have a chance to fuck her first." He laughed and Blaise couldn't quite match his smile.

Paul seemed to decide that their meeting was over and moved toward the door.

Blaise called after him, "There's been some suspicion lately that no Slytherins have been sick."

Paul didn't stop and only said, "I'll take care of it," before opening the door and slipping into the corridor.

A week later the school would be informed of the first Slytherin to be brought to the hospital wing, a young girl with muggle relations.

SSS

The morning after Paul's kiss, Hermione awoke with a guilty conscious. How could she be off kissing boys and having one of the best nights of her life while on the other side of the castle children were dying? She reprimanded herself for losing perspective. It was the worst possible time to begin a romance. She already was worried about losing Harry, Ron and all her other friends to the sickness and now she would add Paul to that list. The thought of seeing Paul in one of those hospital beds put a sickening feeling in Hermione's stomach. The pain would be too great. She should end it, for both their sakes. She only hoped Paul could understand.

Later at breakfast he surprised her by coming to the Gryffindor table to sit with her. Her heart skipped a beat as he slid in next to her and stole a kiss right in front of Harry and Ron, a moment that was certainly not lost on either of them. Hermione blushed deeply and focused on her eggs for quite a while. She wasn't sure what the three of them spoke of while she studied her plate, but when he stood to leave for class she was awakened from her hazy mind by the inquisitive questions of her two best friends.

"What's going on, Mione?" Ron exclaimed, "You're dating this guy now?" Neither of them looked particularly thrilled about the development.

"I... I don't know." And she truly didn't. Were they dating? They hadn't officially said anything, but a public kiss at breakfast sure screamed of a relationship.

"We only just met the guy last night and you're already snogging?" Ron continued. It was nice to know his jealousy hadn't completely disappeared with time.

"He's got a point, Hermione. We hardly know the guy." Harry argued.

"That's right," Ron agreed, "complete stranger."

"I mean can we even be sure he's trustworthy yet?" Harry asked seriously.

Hermione suddenly snapped out of her stupor and became angry. "I don't see what "we" have to do with any of it," she said with a frown, "_We _are not dating him! _I_ am. And I know him and I trust him. That should be enough!"

She was surprised by her words. _I guess we _are_ dating_, she thought and the idea made her smile.

Harry responded first, "You're right Hermione... you just sprung it on us awful fast."

Ron nodded, "Yeah, a warning would have been nice before swapping spit at the breakfast table!"

Hermione was about to go off on him again but pushed her outburst to the side. She supposed it was sweet that they cared. "It all happened very fast and I don't expect you guys to be comfortable with the idea right away but can you please just try to get to know him better. I'm sure you'll see what a great guy he is soon enough."

Harry nodded; he had been meaning to spend time with Paul anyways. The pain he felt in his scar around Paul more than intrigued him. He needed to find out if it was just something about that night or if Paul was indeed someone to be weary of. If it was the latter, it would be hard to tell Hermione that her new boyfriend was dangerous. However he hadn't felt anything at breakfast so he hoped it was a false suspicion.

Ginny then appeared behind Hermione and embraced her with excitement. She wanted to know everything about Hermione's handsome new beau and Hermione found she didn't mind telling her. In fact Hermione enjoyed talking about Paul a little too much and although her reason told her to break things off before they got complicated, her heart was quite excited to dive head first into love.

SSS

Draco found he was was able to keep his eyes off Hermione and Paul for the most part. He forced himself to turn away when they kissed, or held hands or when she smiled lovingly into his eyes. He didn't let the mask slip. He focused on Pansy or bullying first years with Crabbe and Goyle and the more he ignored the happy couple the easier it became to forget about them all together. By the end of the day he became quite confident that he could handle their relationship tolerably well and that nothing in his life would be altered by it.

That night however he was scheduled to patrol the castle with the very girl he was trying to avoid. He considered skipping the chore as he had done many times in the past, but for some reason he didn't want to. He reasoned with his mind that he simply didn't want to listen to Granger's incessant complaints that he never showed up for his head duties but a quieter part of his subconscious was eager to hear her voice and have her all to himself.

However when the time came to go and he knocked on her door he found that she was not in her room. He waited in the common room for almost fifteen minuets and was about to leave assuming that she had left early and was already walking about the castle when she came hurdling through the portrait hole. Her face was hot, her hair more mussed up than usual and her lips were pink and swollen. Draco felt as though he had been punched in the gut.

"Nice of you to show, Granger," he bit out, trying to control his inflection.

She barely noticed him as she rushed past to put her things in her room, "I know, I'm sorry, tutoring ran long." Draco noticed the smile in her voice. Tutoring indeed, were they studying anatomy?

"Let me just grab my cloak," she said, dipping into her room and closing the door behind her. She emerged a moment later looking quite a bit more put together.

"Ready?" He asked in irritation.

She nodded and followed him out the portrait hole. The first few minutes of their walk about the castle was spent in silence, she remembering what had occurred moments before in the library and he trying not to imagine it.

Hermione finally spoke when she realized the absence of sound and began to be unnerved by it, "Have you finished Professor McGonagall's essay?" she asked innocently.

He glared down at her, "Don't do that." He said simply.

"Do what?" She asked surprised by his sharp tone. Certainly she hadn't done anything to offend him yet.

"Try to conjure up meaningless small talk." He responded.

She was taken aback, "Would you rather spend the entire night in silence." She asked, beginning to think that perhaps that would be for the best after all.

Draco was about to respond that yes, he preferred silence when he realized that silence was in fact exactly what he didn't want. Conversation would keep his mind from wandering to more unpleasant subjects. "No," he finally answered.

Hermione nodded in confusion, "Well then, what should we speak of?"

He decided to answer her first question. Schoolwork was a safe subject, "No I haven't finished McGonagall's essay. It's not due for another week. But I'm sure you've had it finished for days," he added nastily.

She nodded, "Yes. I was quite eager to get started on it. I've always found vampires quite fascinating and learning how they transfigure themselves into bats was quite interesting I thought."

"You would," he responded, but his tone was gentler. He found it amusing how excited she got over schoolwork. "Frankly I find it ridiculous that they continue to force us to write essays and take exams with everything that's going on. The world's going to shit and we're supposed to be worried about writing a paper on time?"

Hermione understood his point. It was one she had discussed with Harry and Ron. "I think it's to retain some normalcy. It's harder to dwell on the sickness when your mind is preoccupied with studying charms." Hermione smiled, "It gives hope that things may go back to how they used to be."

Draco was sorry for her naivety. If only she knew just how dire her situation was. "It's stupid. Things can never be as they once were." They both realized the truth in his statement after it left his lips.

Hermione nodded sadly, "You're right." She was reminded of all the lives that were already lost. Things could never be the same for the families who had lost a loved one; their lives were forever altered by this plague. Even if a cure were found tomorrow, their world would be forever impacted.

"It's only going to get worse you know," Malfoy said. "There is no hope." He watched her as he said this. Her resolve only seemed to strengthen.

"You're wrong Malfoy," she said sternly, "there's always hope." She closed her eyes and breathed deeply for a moment. "Someone will find a cure."

He could not tell her the extreme improbability of that without exposing himself. "I hope you're not still wasting your time with that." He could tell by her reaction that she was.

"What I do with my time is none of your business, Malfoy." She said coldly.

Draco's expression hardened, "Yes, although judging from your entrance this evening you didn't get much research done tonight."

She couldn't help but blush. "_That_ is certainly none of your business."

"Don't worry, I'd rather not hear the repulsive details," he responded honestly. He wondered if Paul already knew about Hermione's dangerous research. When he did find out the repercussions were sure to be severe. Voldemort would not have a muggleborn ruining his grand scheme. In the back of his mind Draco realized that it was traitorous to not inform his superiors of Hermione's investigation. He also realized that he would never be able to bring himself to tell them. He could only hope that until Potter was dead, Hermione would be safe.

"I would be careful," he said stupidly, "It would not be wise to make it generally known that your in search of a cure."

Hermione scoffed, "I would think you'd be the worst person to tell and yet you already know." Draco was almost flattered that she thought him her most dangerous confidant. "I don't see why you should care if I'm in danger anyways. It's your side that's trying to kill me!"

Draco was shocked by her bold statement and stared at her speechless.

"Don't play the fool, Malfoy." She said, seeming to grow angry. "We both know Voldemort is behind all this."

Malfoy wasn't surprised that Potter and his sidekicks had their suspicions but he _was_ surprised that Granger would so openly address them to the son of a death eater. Was she stupid? Didn't she know she was in danger? Or did she somehow trust him? He hoped that she didn't.

"Get that silly look off your face, Malfoy. It wasn't that hard to figure out. Not a single Slytherin has fallen ill. Did you think that wouldn't catch _someone's_ attention eventually?"

It certainly was suspicious that the Slytherins remained healthy. But Draco also knew that plans were in motion to sacrifice one of his less noble housemates, someone of questionable blood and uncertain loyalty. For now he did the only thing he could do, deny. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She stopped walking suddenly and turned to face him. "Listen Malfoy, I know you're a nasty git, but I just can't convince myself that you're completely evil. I can't believe that you truly want to see all these people die, if only for the fact that you'll have no one to feel superior to if all the muggleborns are dead." Her tone grew a little bit softer then. "If you have any information, Malfoy, you can make this all stop. You can save us all." She looked up at him hopefully and the look in her eyes almost made him falter.

Time to put the mask back on. "You can't possibly think I'm that stupid, Granger." He let out an empty laugh as he glared down at her. "Why in the world would I sacrifice myself for your pathetic lot? I wouldn't tell you anything even if I could." Opps. He let slip that he was almost as in the dark as her. Exposing weakness was not a good move in a power struggle.

"You mean you don't know anything about the cure? A key ingredient? Anything?" Hermione said helplessly. She took a moment and seemed to reason with herself. "I suppose it makes sense that you wouldn't know. If Voldemort told his followers he would leave his secret in the hands of someone who could easily be tortured for information."

Draco's eyes widened and some amusement reached his eyes, "are you going to torture me, Granger?"

She looked up at him, "Of course not. But it will certainly come to that. When the ministry finally is convinced that Voldemort is behind this any suspected death eater will be brought in for questioning I'm sure. And desperate men have no sense of morals."

Draco understood the probability of her premonition. The world would certainly fall into absolute chaos before peace was restored by the surviving purebloods. Would peaceful be an adjective to describe the post-muggle world? Would the purebloods really be able to create a society devoid of hate and crime? It had been preached and promised but Draco had his doubts in Voldemort's ideal world. In any society there would be some at the bottom and some at the top. It was an unavoidable natural caste system and power ploys would be inevitable. Whatever Draco's apprehensions, the best he could do was to survive as long as possible. He needed to remind himself of this before he let anything else slip to Granger.

He began to walk again. Standing still and looking in her eyes was beginning to feel strange. She followed him, lost in her thoughts.

After several minutes she spoke again, "I hear half of the school will be leaving at the holidays." Her tone was sad and regretful. The students who decided to leave for the holidays wouldn't be allowed back and in a month's time the school would be emptier than she'd ever seen it.

"You won't be leaving will you?" He asked quickly and Hermione almost thought she heard a bit of hopefulness in his tone.

"No, I'll be here." Draco let out a breath he didn't realized he was holding. "But will you be going? I've never known you to celebrate _your_ holiday by staying at school."

Draco sighed, "There's a first time for everything." He would be stationed at Hogwarts until every student died or the school was shut down, whichever came first.

Hermione seemed surprised to hear this and began to imagine just how bleak Christmas would be in a castle full of Slytherins.

Their patrol of the castle reached an uneventful end and they retired back to the head tower. Hermione was surprised to hear Malfoy wish her a goodnight before slipping into his own room. As she entered her own she found a note from Paul on her bed wishing her sweet dreams. She fell asleep with a smile and for the first night in a week she didn't dream of Trelawney's screaming face.

SSS

The following week Harry invited Paul to play Quidditch with him and Ron. He needed an opportunity to observe Paul away from Hermione. She was only too happy to leave them to themselves out in the freezing rain.

Paul, for all his other talents, was not an excellent Quidditch player and had only learned anything about the sport in order to create a bond with Harry Potter. His ability to retain valuable information however was lost when 100 feet up in the air. His cool façade was beginning to slip as he gripped the broomstick tightly and shielded his eyes from the blinding rain.

"Did you not play much Quidditch in Africa?" Harry called out to him as he missed the quaffle yet again.

"It's hard for most African children to afford broomsticks." He responded in a hoarse yell.

Harry laughed and came closer to give Paul a few pointers. It was hard to find the guy a threat when he was so helplessly out of his element.

Ron stayed back around the goalpost; he hadn't given Paul much of a break all night, evidently still bitter that he was snogging Hermione. Harry hadn't confided his suspicions of Paul with Ron yet. With Ron's hot temper and obvious dislike of the guy, he was liable to hex him on the spot.

Paul nodded as Harry tried to explain how to balance on the broom and catch the quaffle at the same time. He longed to regain the upper hand and wondered if it would be so very bad to simply push Potter off his broom and watch him fall to a satisfying death. But no, Paul had to remind himself, Voldemort wanted him to suffer. The disease would be his end.

Harry had not felt the strange affects on his scar this time and he began to grow more comfortable around Paul. It must have been a coincidence that he had felt such a violent pain the night he met him. He was glad; he could see how happy he made Hermione.

Paul too had noticed that Harry did not cringe in his presence and began to evaluate the possible reasons for this.

"So what exactly did you do for fun in Africa?" Harry asked with harmless curiosity. Paul hated this part, the endless weaving of false memories that fell off his tongue believably. It was a weary chore that he was forced to pass off as truth daily. He rambled on about some made up game with sticks and a tiger skull that seemed to amuse Potter.

"Listen," he said when he brought his false history to a close, "I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention to Hermione how inapt I am at Quidditch," Paul asked of Harry, "I already show her my academic failure on a daily basis, no need adding sports to the list."

Harry laughed, "No problem, but with as enamored as Hermione is with you I doubt something like Quidditch will drive her away."

Paul smiled, "enamored, eh?" and the end of his broom seemed to rise slightly.

Harry raised his brow and coughed, "Yeah, enamored, and I can only hope you deserve it."

"Hey!" Ron called out to them, "are we playing or what?"

They chuckled and returned to their match.

SSS

It was a week and a half from Christmas and the castle was buried beneath a foot of snow. The school had witnessed five more deaths including the burial of Professor Trelawney in the Hogwarts cemetery. Hermione had cried for the teacher, but her tears were full of more relief than sadness. Ever since her journey to the hospital wing Hermione had remembered the suffering on the professor's face, the pain in her eyes and her voice pleading for death. Hermione hoped that she had finally found her peace. The day of her funeral, Hermione had pulled out her notebook where she had written Trelawney's words. She had reached no conclusions and had no new information regarding the plague. Unfortunately she had to blame this on Paul. As much as she adored him, spending time with him was taking away valuable opportunities for research. She was able to get in a few hours here and there but he was proving to be a very persistent distraction. It made her feel selfish, spending her evenings with him while her classmates were dying. But every time she thought of breaking it off her heart pleaded with her to hold on one more day. She had watched Dean Thomas, Professor Flitwick, Hannah Abbott and two young Ravenclaws be carried off to the hospital wing in the past week. However as time ticked away and each day brought them closer to death, she still found a comfort in Paul's arms that she wasn't willing to let go of yet.

That morning, as the Christmas decorations were being put up around the Great Hall, news of Parvati Patil's imminent death reached Hermione's ears at the Gryffindor table. Lavender was in hysterics and Ginny was trying to calm her but she could not be consoled. Hermione remembered the last look she and Parvati had shared as she had left the Gryffindor common room. She had felt it then, but the news still stung. Hermione thought she had no tears left to cry and yet they came once again. She wondered when it would stop hurting. She wondered at what point she would grow numb to the death of her friends. Certainly it would happen to all of them, the loss of their emotion, their humanity. The thought made her squirm out of Paul's embrace. She needed to end it before he was consumed as well.

Hermione didn't know it then, but that night would bring more bad news.

Sitting on Ron's bed with him and Harry she told them of her resolution. They listened and agreed that it was for the best to put romance to the side in such uncertain times (Ron slightly more eager than Harry). Hearing it said made the thought all the more painful. Paul had become an important part of her life, in fact he had become a large part of all three of their lives. He had seemed to take a particular interest in Harry and Ron and there was hardly a night that went by that the four of them did not spend together.

They were suddenly startled by a tap on the windowpane. Harry got up to let the owl in and it flew over to Ron immediately. They could all feel it, the slowing down of time as Ron ripped open the envelope, the holding of breath as he read the lines carefully, and like a falling dove the letter fell heavily from his hands and sailed soundlessly to the floor. Arthur Weasley had been infected.

Ron crumpled immediately. He was wracked by sobs and could barely get out the information Harry and Hermione were waiting to confirm. Hermione held him as he fell against her shoulder. Harry held them both. The three of them cried for the Ron's father who had been a second father to Hermione and especially Harry. The plague had never felt so real or so painful and Hermione was sure their hearts would never mend. After an hour they were joined by Ginny who had read the same letter and the four of them cried unashamedly in a tight embrace. They awoke the next morning in a pile of bodies and dried tears. Hermione was the only one who made it to classes that day.

SSS

That night after an exhausting day of classes and head duties she finally reached the head tower. She was afraid of entering and sitting in the emptiness of her room. The quiet gave her too much time with her mind, too much time to dwell on thoughts of Mr. Weasley's suffering and the pain of his wife and children. As tired as she physically was she wished for another set of classes to distract herself for a few hours. She cursed herself for finishing all her homework until the holiday and she cursed Paul for disappearing on the day she needed him most. With these heavy thoughts she entered the common room and found Malfoy 1/8 of the way into a bottle of firewhiskey.

Any other day she would be delighted to find Malfoy in such a compromising situation but the upholding of Hogwarts rules seemed trivial in the aftermath of yesterdays news and she walked past the Head Boy, defeated.

"Don't worry I won't report you," she said as she headed to her room.

As her hand touched the knob she heard his voice call out, "Would you like to join me?"

She turned around in shock and confusion, was it a joke? He couldn't possibly expect her to drink with him.

"You look like you could use a drink," he said simply in response to her blank stare.

Then she really looked at him and Hermione realized that Malfoy looked just as defeated as she felt. For a moment she wondered what his bad news could possibly be and then she realized it didn't matter. They were both evidently in pain and in need of release. Strangely enough, Malfoy was offering her that release, a chance to escape her reality. She considered her morals, what Harry and Ron would say, what Dumbledore would think and she realized these things didn't matter so much anymore. Hermione had never been drunk before. Woozy from butterbeer, yes, but she had never had hard liquor. As she crossed the room to sit next to Malfoy on the couch, she realized she didn't want to die before trying it at least once.

"I've never done this before," she confessed nervously.

He grinned, "Don't worry, I know enough about it for the both of us."

Then he poured them each a shot and raised his glass to hers, "To forgetting."

SSS

A few shots later, Hermione had never felt anything like it. A strange movement of time where her mind seemed to register moments ten seconds after they occurred. She waved her hand in front of her and watched it shift about in her vision. She giggled and then became very serious. She stared at Malfoy, "I think it's having an affect on me."

Draco laughed, "Enjoy it. There are plenty of people who would pay me lots of money to feel that affect inside castle walls."

Hermione observed him and began to sway in her seat. She steadied herself, "You're a drug dealer aren't you?"

Draco laughed again, "I find labels offensive."

Her eyes grew wide at the thought of offending him. "Don't worry! I don't care. Not anymore, anyways. It seems a silly thing to care about now." Draco noticed she had placed an encouraging hand on his knee, which she removed when she realized a few moments later.

Draco took another shot. Obviously their tolerances were at different levels.

She giggled and moved her arms about again, "I can't get over it, it's so bizarre. I don't even feel like I'm in my own body right now." Draco laughed at her innocence and tried to remember his first time drinking. He could vaguely recall the odd affect on his body but it had been several years ago and time had worn away at the memory of those carefree days. Now it was custom, a regular part of his week. Each letter from his father was followed by a cold glass of liquor.

Hermione tried to stand up and wobbled uncertainly, "Woah," Draco said, grabbing her arm as she plopped back down next to him.

"How many have I had?" She asked in disbelief.

"Five I think," Draco said smiling.

She nodded knowingly and then asked, "Is that a lot?"

He laughed at her again as he threw back another. "For someone your size it's decent, especially being your first time."

She leaned in toward him as if to tell a secret. "Isn't it strange? That I'm drinking for the first time with _you_!"

"Well I don't expect that Potter and Weasley would be very entertaining to drink with. I imagine they'd spend the whole night changing their tampons and singing love songs written to Dumbledore." Hermione stopped the chuckle that escaped her throat and Draco liked that he'd made her laugh.

"Well _I _can't imagine Crabbe and Goyle are any fun. They can't form an intelligent thought between the two of them! You'd have a better time drinking with a pile of rocks."

Draco agreed sadly, "Too true, and this is why you found me drinking alone tonight."

Hermione smiled as she dug up a memory, "You know Ron did drink once. He threw up _everywhere_," she said using hand gestures to exaggerate the "everywhere". Then she brought her hand to her lips in shock. "Why did I tell you that?!" She looked worried, "I shouldn't have told you that!"

Draco couldn't help but laugh, "Don't worry, I'll take it to the grave."

"No you won't!" she insisted, "I _know_ you Draco Malfoy and you'll use any ammunition I give you against Ron!"

"I'll make an exception this once. Since you so kindly refrained from ratting me out to Dumbledore." He took another shot and he could finally feel the mind numbing affects of the alcohol on him. Hermione seemed to accept this agreement. "Do you really think you know me?" Draco asked. He was suddenly very interested to hear her opinion of him.

She laughed as if it were obvious. "Yeah, I think I know you pretty well, Malfoy. We've only been in school together six and a half years."

Draco shook his head, "That doesn't mean you know me. What do you think you know about me?"

She looked at him slyly and wondered if this was a test. "I know your name is Draco Malfoy, your about six feet tall, you're Head Boy and Quidditch Captain for the Slytherin house…" He didn't seem satisfied yet, "You're pompous and egotistical, you like to break the rules, you think you can have whatever girl you choose-"

He cut in, "well that one's certainly a proven fact." She rolled her eyes. He couldn't help but be slightly disappointed by her description of him. "It seems your knowledge of me is rather two dimensional."

"Oh?" she said, moving closer, "And what do _you_ know about _me_?"

He threw back another shot, sensing a dangerous conversation he might not want to remember. "I… know that your friends are two of the most annoying people I've ever met." He laughed jokingly, "…I know you find Ancient Runes fascinating, I know you gather potions ingredients for Snape, I know you volunteer at the student clinic," he could begin to feel the alcohol doing the talking for him, "I know you walk around with ink on your face all day without realizing it." They both laughed at the truth of his words. Hermione was being pulled in as she listened to him speak. How had he noticed so much about her? Perhaps he didn't hate her as much as she thought. As she listened to his words she began to realize that she didn't hate him much either, not even a little. "and I know you're too passionate about too many things. I know that you put too much weight on your shoulders and spread yourself too thin," She could feel the distance on the couch in-between them begin to disappear as he described her with such perception. "And I think you're a fool for caring too much," he added quietly.

Usually being called a fool would make Hermione angry but Draco said it with such a tone that she could only feel entranced by his words.

She felt herself speak and she wished her words would not slur because what she had to say seemed immensely important, "Well," she breathed, "I know that you're not the asshole you pretend to be… I know you hide behind a mask that you think no one can see." He felt exposed but he realized he didn't mind it in front of her. "And I think you're braver than that." She smiled.

She had never noticed how lovely his eyes were before. They appeared a kaleidoscope of grays and blue, little flecks of crystal dancing in the candlelight. She wondered how many people had been close enough to see them as she was now and whether they had appreciated them if they had. Hermione had always known that Draco Malfoy was attractive, but she had never really seen how gorgeous he was. His smooth skin lay flawlessly over handsomely chiseled features. His blonde fair hung carelessly in his face. His smile was perfect and endearing. Why had she never noticed these things before?

At the same time, Draco was exploring the wonderful contours of Hermione's face, a face that had become too familiar as of late. He cursed himself for his weak resolve and exposed infatuation. He had never felt so hopelessly drawn to a girl before.

He was so close and she could feel his cool breath as he spoke, "You're beautiful."

Neither could be sure who kissed whom, but soon they were on top of one another with frightening intensity. All the passion and hateful tension that had built up over six years suddenly collided with uninhibited desire. Draco pulled her onto his lap effortlessly and her hands wove behind his neck as he pulled her ever closer. Her soft lips worked against his own with astonishing enthusiasm. They could feel their mouths and tongues racing against an unknown clock, trying to capture a moment both knew could not last. It was a hungry kiss and a forbidden kiss. Hands, pulling and grabbing. Bodies longed to be closer than space allowed. It was an excited and lustful kiss and Hermione felt as though she could feel every hair on his neck, every muscle against her breasts, and every touch of his tongue against hers. It was an ecstasy Hermione had never felt before and she was experiencing it with none other than Draco Malfoy. She was kissing _Draco Malfoy_!

That thought finally brought her from her hazy fog and back to the reality of her situation. She suddenly realized that she was snogging her enemy, that she was on his lap and that she couldn't remember whether _she_ had been the one to kiss _him _or the other way around! In sudden embarrassment and utter torment she pulled her mouth from his and after a moment starring into each other's wide and frightened eyes, she jumped off his lap and bounded for her room. She left a very confused Draco on the couch; drunk and cursing the cracks in his mask that had let him give in to such stupid desire.

SSS

**A/N: Finally something happens! And I hope everyone was excited to see such a quick update. I was much more excited to write this particular chapter than one's before it and I hope it shows. I'd like to apologize if anyone has any moral issues or issues with Hermione's character drinking. I toyed with the idea for a awhile and I decided that in such desperate times even Hermione Granger wouldn't say no to a shot or two (or five). I hope my description of a first time drinking experience wasn't too painful to read, it was hard for me to remember that first time. In the end I decided that a drunk make out would be for the best. They are abrupt, steamy and completely embarrassing the next morning. Should make for a good start to the next chapter. Also I took an opportunity in this chapter to expose some of Paul's real character. By now you should be aware that he's not stupid (in fact he's incredibly smart), he's very important to Voldemort, and he's come to Hogwarts to infect Harry Potter. **

**Thanks for reading! **


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